


Shards of Love and Pain

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Lydia Martin, BAMF Malia, BAMF Scott, BAMF Stiles, Best Friends, Episode: s05e04 Condition Terminal, Episode: s05e05 A Novel Approach, Episode: s05e07 Strange Frequencies, Episode: s05e10 Status Asthmaticus, Episode: s05e11 The Last Chimera, Episode: s05e12 Damnatio Memoriae, Episode: s05e17 A Credible Threat, Episode: s05e18 Maid of Gévaudan, Episode: s05e20 Apotheosis, Friendship, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hurt Liam, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Male-Female Friendship, Plothole Fill, Post-Episode: s05e05 A Novel Approach, Post-Episode: s05e19 The Beast Of Beacon Hills, Prompt Fill, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Bromance, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Season/Series 05, Sick Stiles Stilinski, Stiles-centric, Stilinski Family Feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-12 22:33:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 30,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9093724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: An AU for the final episodes of Season 5B, including the Donovan-storyline from 5A.The Desert Wolf wants her power back, but how far will she go to hurt Malia and the one she cares about the most? While the pack fights the Beast and the Dread Doctors, and Malia and Braeden prepare for the ultimate battle against Malia’s mother, nobody can prevent Stiles from being stuck in the middle of both battles. And then he becomes very sick, as a result of Donovan's bite. While Stiles struggles to survive the danger from all sides, the pack joins forces to prevent true tragedy from happening and keep him out of the Desert Wolf's claws while he recovers.This story fills a lot of gaps left over from season 5, tackling the Desert Wolf storyline, the Malia-Stiles breakup, the Stilinski family feels, some Derek, Scott-Stiles bromance, the Beast and the Donovan-Stiles storyline. In other words, I've tried to cover all the parts I felt were not covered enough in season 5.By the way, I’m a Hurt-Stiles fan, so you’re warned, there will be plenty of that. There will also be a lot of bromance, friendship, family-feels, and the typical ingredients I try to put into my stories, while remaining canon.





	1. Malia

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so after a long break, I finally caved and decided to write another story. I received so many lovely messages after my last story, that I just couldn't resist.
> 
> This story is based on two prompts (can you do something with Donovan's bite and the shard stuck in Stiles' chest?). I decided to do both in one long story and added a couple of twists related to season 5.
> 
> I’ll update this story twice per week  
>  

 

**Chapter One: Malia**

‘That’s him, isn’t it? That’s the one.’

Malia’s blood turns cold when she watches her mother point out Stiles, standing near the audience at the game, holding an ice pack to his face. He seems out of it, as if he somehow bumped his head, standing there so awkwardly and clumsily, it would have made Malia smile in different circumstances. That’s the Stiles she came to love, the somewhat awkward teenager with a heart of gold, throwing himself into battle no matter what. The bumps along the way, he took as part of the ride, even if they didn’t came from battling a monster this time.

No matter what, she still loves him. No matter what happened between them, she knows he’ll always be her first love, the one that brought her out of the darkness and into a world where friendship exists. And her mother somehow figured this out easily. It was probably written all over Malia’s face. Somehow, The Desert Wolf dug deep into Malia’s consciousness with those dark, icy cold eyes of hers and drilled out that what matters most: Her human link to the pack.

Did the Desert Wolf somehow smell Malia’s devotion to her former boyfriend? Did she figure out Malia is still crazy about him, even though they broke up some time ago under dark circumstances caused by Theo? Or did Theo just tell her about their relationship? No, he wouldn’t have.

It must have shown that much, or perhaps was it the sweater that gave her away. Stiles’ sweater she just can’t seem to part from, the one carrying his scent all over. Yeah, that’s it. Why was she stupid enough to wear it tonight? She challenged fate by doing so.

She bites her lip and shakes her head quietly, horrified that her mother now knows her only weakness. She hadn’t expected her mom here tonight. The full moon is two nights away, there should have been no fear of bumping into her during the trap they set up for the Beast of Gévaudan. They were all so occupied trying to figure out who the last chimaera is, that they forgot for a second there are other enemies out there.

And now, as she’s caught off guard, Malia regrets having been tricked, having picked out Stiles’ sweater in order to remember what it was like basking under his care. She misses him more than she’ll ever admit to anyone. She cares more about him than anyone else in the world, even though he too is not able to stop her from battling her own mother. She’s regretted having lured her mom back here from the start, from the moment the woman took the bait and came to hunt her down. She misjudged the situation, caused friction amongst her friends and added fear to their already horrible predicament.

She has to lie, has to persuade her mom that there’s no point in attacking Stiles, because he means nothing to her. She can do it, she knows. She can lie straight into her face to protect the one man she’s still so crazy about, but she’s too late. The woman who murdered her family, is gone. This was all she needed for tonight, what she came for. She found the possible leverage she can use against her own daughter. The daughter she wants to kill so badly she’ll do anything to reach that goal.

It breaks Malia’s heart to know that the woman who gave her life, is so eager to take it again. The girl may seem tough on the outside, but deep within, she yearns for someone to hold her and tell her it will all be okay. Someone like Stiles, like her mother. She lost both.

Cold fear grasps Malia as she focuses back on what she’s supposed to do, blocking the transmissions that will lure the Beast to the Lacrosse game. Blocking out Stiles, she blinks her eyelids and refocuses on her situation.

As Malia sits on the roof of the van and works hard to help the plan to succeed, she smiles in victory. And then, as she fails and the television broadcast switches on again and turns up the volume and all hell breaks loose, the first thing she once again thinks of, is Stiles. Cold fear grasps her heart.

She has to keep him safe, that’s all she can think about. He’s human, he can hurt and he can die. He can die at the hands of the Beast, or between the claws of her mother, slashing his throat. She has to help him!

Oh god, who is she kidding? She’s still crazy about him. She’s loyal to him, as he was her first mate and always will be the one she loved first. She has difficulty letting go of that, as Coyote’s bond with those they love first. She can’t deny her feelings, even though she knows for a fact he’s madly in love with Lydia and has moved on from her. You have to be blind not to see their affection for one another, even if they don’t act on it. She saw it when they went into Eichen House to save Lydia. He was so frantic.

But she knows for a fact she has a place in his heart too. He told her that, not so long ago, after their break-up. He told her that, even though they wouldn’t be a couple anymore, he would never forget her. He loves her, in his own way, but she doesn’t possess his heart anymore. Part of that, turned to darkness.

Somehow, with Theo meddling with them all, they forgot how to be together. They were an item, and then, when Donovan died, Stiles somehow pushed her away instinctively by refusing to tell her what happened. She understood though, it’s still a very dark burden to carry and he had to do it alone.

Or did she drive him away? She knows she should have told him about the fact that she knew about Donovan. She had taken a look one night at his shoulder, seeing the un-healing vicious bite that mutilated skin and flesh below it. She found out he was popping painkillers when he thought nobody was looking. He smelled off, diseased. He still does, even though he doesn’t comment on it a lot anymore and it seems to have eased up a little bit.

She watched how he slept at night. How he stirred in his sleep, feeling pain even as he slept. Not a single painkiller took that ache away. When he didn’t notice, caught in darkened dreams, she would take the pain as much as she dared without him noticing. Sometimes he would sink from shallow sleep into a deeper slumber and she would notice the frown disappearing.

It concerned her that, even though they all knew about Donovan now, that apart from her, still no one else knew about the bite on his shoulder. She knew it wasn’t healed at all and it would still smell off, but the others were so preoccupied with the Beast they didn’t notice or commented on it. She wanted to tell him that he should take care of it, but she knew he wouldn’t listen. He would just shrug it off as the stubborn mule he was.

She took a guess as to when Donovan’s death happened and she was right. That night at the library, she was unable to get in touch with him, tried to call him several times and he would never return her calls. The next day, he behaved really oddly, acting as if nothing had happened and he was fine. But she noticed how he reacted at the Sheriff’s office, how he cringed when they mentioned Donovan’s disappearance around the same time she first smelled the scent of disease on his body. That’s when she knew and the bite told her so. He wouldn’t stay the night anymore after that at first, but she still managed to persuade him to come over on occasion.

She should have held him tight to tell him it was okay, but she confessed very awkwardly at the wrong time that she knew what had happened. At the moment he was so alone his eyes betrayed his fear of being deserted once again. She knew Scott had sent him away, had refused to believe him thanks to Theo. She should not have let go at that time, but she did, because she was already too busy thinking about the Desert Wolf.

She wanted to let him know that she knew why he never told any of them. He had been so afraid of losing them all, that he had lied about it. He had been so riddled with guilt, it had been eating him alive.

So why did it all happen like that? So awkwardly, so strangely? She still doesn’t know but she grasps that now. She knows that not everything needs to be cleared out in the open. Somehow, it’s better to just move on. That’s what they both did, even when it breaks her heart now and then.

Malia has come to terms with her loss of Stiles, even though somehow she knows that she hasn’t lost him completely. It just works very differently now, they’re on a different level. They’re a pack, a team, friends and who knows what else. Her mind boggles at the thought of it all. Somehow, being an animal, was easier.

She needs to tell him about The Desert Wolf. Needs to warn him. But it has to wait, when all hell breaks loose.

“Not now, Malia,” she mutters aloud as she watches the Beast’s form jump over the bus, with Liam heading bravely towards it, jumping in the air too as if he’s some rock basketball player, handing a high five to the Beast.

She runs over to Stiles, only to see him call out Liam’s name and head towards them, without even thinking about the danger he’s putting himself into. The crowd is screaming and falling apart, all hell breaks loose on the lacrosse field.

The Beast and the Beta fight, rolling off the backside of the bus, out of sight of the kids and adults who are running all over the place, trying to find shelter wherever they can. She sees most of them head for the school, finding a place to hide inside. But Stiles is still heading straight for the bus, as if he’s a Beast himself.

“Stiles, no,” she calls after him but he doesn’t hear her as he heads fearlessly towards the bus, going after Liam. She knows that he feels responsible for the younger kid, that he’s often still upset that this oh so young kid became a werewolf by accident. Stiles often acts as his big brother, even though in reality, they don’t differ that much in age.

“You can’t heal,” Malia mutters, knowing Stiles will forget that little titbit as he tries to find the younger wolf who doesn’t stand a chance against the Beast and is being ripped apart. She doesn’t know where Scott or Kira are, but she senses that all of them are in for a very rough night.

Malia runs after Stiles, only to find him behind the bus, kneeling down by Liam’s bloodied body. For a moment she thinks the younger wolf is dead, but then Liam stirs and speaks while the Beast heads back towards him for a second attack, with Stiles in the middle of it, standing up against a creature twice his size in order to save Liam.

“No,” she hears Stiles say sharply, trying bravely to protect Liam as he holds his ground, only to be shoved out of the way with one major haul from the Beast’s paw. She hears Stiles’ form slam into the side of the bus, where he stays.

“No!” Malia screams as she heads towards him, just as the Beast attacks for the third time.


	2. The Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you all so much for the amazing comments and many kudos! I'm really flattered and happy that you liked the first chapter.  
> I have no idea how long this story will become, but it looks like it will be a long one. (about 20 - 25 chapters I'm guessing).   
> I'm currently working on adding a lot of stuff that were left open in season 5, so hopefully I'll be able to knit all of those in.  
> Next chapter will be posted next Monday. Have a wonderful end of the year!

**Chapter Two: The Beast**

_Stiles is down_ , that’s all Malia can think about when she races to help. Liam is out cold too, but at least he can heal, something the human amongst their pack will never be able to do. She knows that his chances of survival are much bigger.

She sees the Beast lurch forward again and she screams as loud as she can to draw attention to her, but the creature won’t budge. It angrily picks up Liam, slumped down on the ground close to Stiles, as if he’s a rag doll and pulls him along into the building, roaring loud as he does. It’s obvious the Beast only struck Stiles because he was in the way between it and Liam. The creature could have killed him easily before Malia even got there, she realizes. Yet it ignores Stiles and Malia as it takes off, as if it doesn’t care about them at all.

“Stiles. Hey, can you hear me?” she asks frantically as she kneels down by her former boyfriend’s side, breathing in and out in sheer relief as he opens his eyes immediately, reacting to her voice without hesitation. She’s upset that Scott, Lydia and Kira are nowhere to be seen, wondering what the hell happened to them.

“Get the sheriff!” she shouts at a kid, but he just keeps on running, just like all the others who barely notice her as they scatter all over the place. Stiles is dazed and stares at her in wonder for a moment, blood tricking from the side of his head, arm and neck. Sweat pours down his face. He’s out of it, but becomes lucid quite rapidly, a good sign that he isn’t concussed or in some bad place.

“What happened?” he croaks, only to return to the present as soon as he remembers how he got here in the first place. Pain written all over his face, he pushes off Malia’s grip as he recalls the Beast. Frantically he looks around, searching for the source of evil, relaxing only a bit when Malia again puts a hand on his arm and tells him the Beast has taken off with Liam.

“He wasn’t not interested in you,” she says, even though she can’t explain why. Gingerly Stiles tries to move, crawling up on all fours while Malia grips him tight. She removes the sweater that she’s wearing, with his scent still on it, and uses it to stem the bleeding to his head, coming from a relatively small gash hidden between his dark hairs. It’s just a small cut and probably won’t even need stitches, but she knows there could be a lot more damage. That smell of infected flesh pushes through her nostrils again.

“That was stupidly brave,” she mutters as she watches him concerned, wondering if she can leave him alone to go find the sheriff or Liam. Where the hell is Scott? She doesn’t know and it concerns her.

Stiles doesn’t even seem to hear her remark. “Where’s Liam?” he grunts. “We have to find him.”

His voice sounds hoarse, filled with physical pain, but despite that, he actually seems lucid and pretty much okay, considering he’s just been thrown against a bus. Malia grips him tightly, moving him up, knowing him all too well. She won’t be able to stop him if he’s focused on the young Beta who needs their help. It surprises her that he hasn’t asked for Scott.

“Inside the building, with the Beast,” she says frowning. “We won’t be able to get him out alone, we need to find the others. What the hell were you thinking going after them in your condition, Stiles?”

The reference to his previous injuries pass Stiles by easily. He knows he’s been through a lot over the past couple of weeks. He’s been bitten by a Wendigo, paralyzed twice by a kanima, attacked by a electricity-addict on the hospital rooftop, flipped upside down in his own jeep, slammed his head against staircases and brick walls several times, even managed to hit his head against steel just half an hour ago, but he’s still there and won’t be phased by anything. The Pack needs help.

“I don’t care,” Stiles mutters. “Liam’s in trouble, Malia. He needs help, he won’t survive on his own.”

“Everyone’s in trouble,” Malia remarks. “Including you. You won’t help anyone by killing yourself.”

“It’s our fault that _thing_ is here,” Stiles suddenly, angry snaps. “I have to stop it.”

“No, it’s the Dread Doctor’s,” she reminds him. “They resurrected him, just like they created Donovan and nearly killed you over and over again.”

“And why do you think they did it right here, in Beacon Hills?” Stiles remarks sharply. “Because _we_ triggered the Nemeton, the beacon for the supernatural, luring them all into this cursed town. It all comes back to that, Malia. We did this, all of this. _I_ did this to all these people. Don’t you get that?”

Malia holds her breath as she hears her former boyfriend voice his concerns for the first time. She always knew he has a lot on his mind, but this, she hadn’t expected. Not like this, anyhow. She knew that the darkness after their sacrifice had become a huge part of his personality. She heard from the others how he used to be before that, how the Nogitsune has changed him. How can he still carry that burden from the dark? She knows Scott doesn’t, or at least not as visible.

“Because you had to save your parents and stop the Darach,” she reminds him gently. “You saved a lot of people from dying under her hands.”

“There should have been other ways. Had I known –“ Stiles shakes his head as he closes his eyes for a second, rubbing his eyelids tiredly. She knows he won’t show her his tears, but they are there, waiting to be shown. “I’m not sure if it was worth the sacrifice, Malia, no matter how much I love my dad. After all that has happened, after all we’ve done, I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to keep on saving this town. It’s too much, don’t you see? There will always be others, and more, and worse. This Beast is horrible, but who knows what might come next.”

He looks up with fear and sadness in his eyes as kids run past them, ignoring them. Malia wants to find Stiles’ dad and tell him his son is hurt, but she doesn’t. She won’t leave Stiles alone, when he’s feeling like this. She knows that he’ll go after Liam the moment she lets him go and she refuses to do so right now. It might kill him in the state he is in right now.

“You can’t help Liam like this, Stiles,” she says gently. “You’re hurt too, you banged your head twice in a couple of minutes. You have to take care of yourself first, find shelter. The Beast is not yours to fight, you’ll have to leave that up to the ones with claws, fire and killer screams. I’m afraid not a single bat in the world will be able to destroy it.”

“It was my stupid idea to find the teenager’s shoe,” Stiles says quietly, reminding her of their failed plan. “I had to stop this game from happening and we screwed up with Finstock. It’s all my fault, don’t you see, Malia?”

Malia knows Stiles has a lot of guilt lingering upon him, like a too-heavy blanket to carry around. She has always known. She carries a similar one after the death of her adoptive family. Gently she cups his chin, forcing him to look at her, praying in silence at the same time that his dad will show up at any minute.

“I’m sorry, this is not your burden,” he mutters, his eyes darting away from her ashamed.

She cups his face gently. “But it is, Stiles. And you’ll save this town. But you won’t be saving it if you sacrifice yourself doing stupid, heroic things like throwing yourself between a gigantic monster and a werewolf. Just as a gentle reminder, you choose to stay human, then you also need to accept your boundaries, okay? Let me help you.”

Stiles smiles weakly, not replying.

“Stiles, look at me,” she pushes on. “It’s not your fault. It was not only your decision either to be here. It was _ours_ , as a group, a pack. Because we want to help and that’s what we do.”

 Malia helps Stiles up as he leans against the bus, wavering on his legs, closing his eyes as he fights against the nausea forcing its way up his system. “You can’t help Liam like this. You need help, you might be concussed after all.”

Stiles shrugs, wiping the last of the blood off his face. Sweat still pours down his face, along with tears, which he no longer holds back now. Malia cares for him so much, but knows she can’t express that as a girlfriend anymore. It’s killing her to see him like this, knowing at the same time she’s not the one to stop him. She needs the others, his father, someone who knows him through and through.

Stiles straightens his back, gazing at the entrance of the school, hearing the shouts on the field and the sirens. All of this took place in a couple of minutes and there might still be time to save Liam.

“I have to go,” he mutters, flexing his shoulders. Instantly she notices the wince this action causes.

“You can’t, not like this. I’ll go get your dad,” she urges.

“No, you won’t. And yes, I can. You have to find the others, Malia, use the second entrance to head into the building, okay? Find Scott, tell him what’s going on. Help him, I think he might be in trouble. And be safe, promise me that.” His hand touches her hair. “You have to be okay.”

“I won’t leave you alone, Stiles, not like this,” Malia shouts.

Stiles looks her in the eye, touching her arm gently. “I know you mean well, but I can take care of myself, even if I don’t have your claws. You can do this, Malia. You’re strong, you have to help as many kids as you can now. They need you. I’ll go find Liam. If my theory is right, the Beast is focusing on him and that might buy you some time to save as many as you can.”

Malia takes a deep breath, afraid that she’ll lose Stiles if he goes inside the school building. He’ll be heading towards danger and she doesn’t know how to stop him. She knows he thinks about the pack before anything else, before his own safety. She has to respect that, like she always has. She nods quietly, letting him go reluctantly.

Then she remembers. Afraid she looks around, trying to find her mother.

“I have to tell you something,” she begins, but Stiles doesn’t listen anymore as he already makes way for the building, forcing her to focus on other matters at this moment. He leaves before she can say anything else and she watches him reluctantly enter the building, knowing she can’t stop him. She knows that he has to help, that’s what he always does. That’s what she learned to do too.

“Damnit,” she curses under her breath, looking up startled when the air fills with the roars of the Beast and screaming people’s footsteps. Stiles is right, there are many innocent people in that building that need their help. And she _can_ help. She has powers, even if they may not be strong enough to kill the Beast. At least she’ll be able to help slow down his path of destruction.

Malia stretches her shoulders and heads into the building, forcing herself to take care of the others, before she can take care of Stiles. Pushing him out of her thoughts for a brief moment, she enters the building through the second door, just as he asked her to do.

From the side of the bus, the Desert Wolf watches her daughter, smiling as she sees Malia struggle with her emotions. The cold-hearted woman realizes she’s been spot on when she smelled the boy on Malia’s sweater. But she had already known. Theo had told her about Malia’s connection to Stiles. The connection Stiles seems to have with everyone.

“I want her alone and without any friends,” she had hissed when they discussed Malia’s life. “I want her to bleed before she dies.”

“It’s a strong bond,” the Chimera had pointed out when he first arrived at Beacon Hills. “You’d be better off killing him first. It will make it easier for your to get to her. She’ll be grief struck and unfocused.”

“That’ll be my plan B then,” the Desert Wolf retorted. “After we do it my way. If that fails, I’ll go after him first.”

Theo smiled as he agreed. Breaking up the pack had been his idea and that’s exactly what he did. The Desert Wolf doesn’t even realize that he has sent Donovan after Stiles first, that it failed. That he has been attacked multiple times and always pulled through. Stiles was strong, but nobody could beat a woman so angry at her daughter she would do anything.

Theo just hadn’t expected that somehow, the bonds of friendship could just be as strong as the bonds of love. That, he had underestimated greatly.


	3. Liam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you all so very, very much for your comments and kudos! I'm in awe of the reactions to this story.  
> I've received a lot of questions about the canon version and I promise to keep as much canon in as possible, but filling in all the blanks and keeping the timeline respected at the same time.  
> Thank you again!

**Chapter Three: Liam**

Stiles shakes the dizziness out of his head as he enters the dark school building, already forgetting about Malia’s warnings, as he tries to locate Liam, Kira or Scott. He knows Scott went inside to talk to Kira, who as acting strange again. The Alpha is very concerned about his girlfriend, who seems unable to maintain her powers.

Stiles doesn’t dare to call out to them, afraid to endanger them all if the Beast somehow pinpoints its search to the supernatural creatures that live in Beacon Hills. Why else would he have picked Liam while he was much more vulnerable at that moment?

For one long moment it’s quiet in the hallways, as if everyone has found shelter and is waiting for the creature’s next moves, but then all hell breaks loose again. Stiles’ heart pounds in his chest, so loud that it actually hurts his ears. He moves swiftly past many frightened kids who are all over the placing, running in and out of the building. Frantically he looks around, trying to locate the Beast’s whereabouts inside the compound, hoping to catch some trail of destruction.

Malia’s words still ring true. He knows he can’t save these people and he won’t be able to beat the Beast, but he can help save as many as he can and he definitely needs to find Liam. That’s what he must do, as a penance for all that went wrong since the sacrifice.

Stiles carries many burdens with him: The Nogitsune, the Dread Doctors, the Benefactor, Donovan … and all that happened in between. He’s still struggling to cope with it all, trying to make a mends the best way he can. It’s what he lives for now, even if he tells the others he’s looking forward to college. Perhaps he will never even make it there, he might stay in Beacon Hills forever, without college degree, playing a vigilante who protects the city from the supernatural creatures who only aim to harm.

“Head towards the dressing room,” he warns a bunch of horrified girls who clutch to his arm suddenly, trying to find solace. They look about fifteen, just kids with a whole life ahead of them. If Parrish’s dreams come true, every one of them will die. But that will not be today. Without as much as a nod, the girls head exactly where he tells them to go. His voice is calm yet forceful, leading them to safety. They sense that he knows what he’s saying.

Stiles stretches his back, pushes back bile and looks around, seeing more teenagers heading towards them. He knows what to do now, how he can help in his search for Liam. He takes charge, calming everyone down immediately as he raises his voice, ignores the pounding in his head, and starts ordering the frightened kids around.

“You, down the basements, he won’t find you there,” he tells a mixed group of seniors.

“You guys, head over there, to the Principal’s office. Lock the doors, don’t come out. Just stay where you are, until the Sheriff’s Deputies come get you. Alright? Don’t open the door for anyone else,” he barks to another group.

“You, head outside, keep on running until you can’t breathe anymore. Find help wherever you can.”

“You, find a phone. Get help here. Guns, we need guns.”

He orders as much as he can, using his self-assurance to persuade these kids to do as he says. A bunch of history classmates try to pull him with them but he refuses.

“Come with us,” they say as the corridors start emptying.

“Not yet,” he says.

Stiles moves through the corridors, ordering kids where to hide or how to run away, until the hallways get quiet, except for a few who still run around dazed and have absolutely no clue on what is going on.

The next corridor is pure hell. Stiles doesn’t need to be psychic or possess supernatural powers to find Liam. He just has to follow the trail of destruction and blood. Lots of blood. He doesn’t scent whose it is, but he already knows. As he swerves around the corner, he sees the younger wolf lying on the ground. Liam is bleeding like crazy, his intestines pouring out of his slashed belly and through cracked ribs. And still, he’s alive.

“Oh sweet Jesus,” Stiles mutters, kneeling down at the wolf’s side, almost puking his guts out right there and then by the sight of the gruesome damage done. He tries not to think of the blood and gore as Liam suddenly gasps and opens his eyes, clutching Stiles’ hand on instinct.

Lightheaded Stiles pushes the back of his hand against his mouth, trying to fight against his natural urge to just run away and pass out in a corner somewhere. The bile, the headache and the way he feels don’t really help.

No, he won’t! He refuses to give in now.

Another roar sends people screaming down the corridors, heading straight towards them. On instinct Stiles pushes himself over Liam, protecting him as they run past them like a horde on the loose. He knows these kids have encountered the Beast, who is continuing its rampage with the fierceness of an unstoppable creature.

When they’re alone again, he frantically looks at Liam.

“Liam, come on man. Wake up,” Stiles urges, shaking him roughly. “I can’t carry you out like this, you’ve got to help me, dude.”

“O-kay,” Liam slurs, staring at Stiles. “I’m okay. J-just a scratch. T-Thanks.”

Relieved Stiles sighs, leaning against the lockers with his back. For one brief moment he blacks out, sitting there. Then he moves and returns to the here and now, knowing the creature is nearby. The Beast roars its ugly head, its screams audible throughout the entire school building now. Then Malia enters the corridor too and moves towards them, kneeling down by them. Liam closes his eyes tiredly, his chest heaving.

“He’s okay, go help the others,” Stiles breathes deeply. “Go, Malia! Go find Scott and Kira, they still must be out there somewhere. We have to get everyone out of here. GO!”

Malia does exactly what he tells her to do. She heads deeper into the belly of the school, heading towards her Alpha, whom she scents close by now, her mind set on saving people. With her mother out of sight and Stiles being as commanding as he is right now, she knows he can take care of himself.

“Shout my name if you need me,” she urges. “I’ll hear you no matter what.”

He just nods.

“Liam, come on man, listen to me,” Stiles says nervously, tapping the younger wolf on his cheek when his eyes close again. “You’ve got to listen to me. We’ve got to get out of here before the Beast returns.”

Liam just stares at him, completely out of it. He’s so phased out it scares Stiles. He resists the urge to call Malia back and help with Liam, but he knows she’s needed elsewhere right now. He has to do this on his own somehow. He hears the roars of the Beast approach. Terrified he listens, sweat pouring down his face again. He shoves part of Lacrosse gear off of him, leaving him in his T-shirt and shorts. Another roar horrifies him. Liam hasn’t moved an inch since he closed his eyes again.

“Liam, listen to me. You’ve got to move _now_ or you’re dead. We’re both going to be dead,” Stiles screams.

The young wolf looks up, his voice once again slurred. “Am okay.”

“Good, now get the hell up.”

“Can’t.”

“You have to, or you’re dead,” Stiles shouts.

The Beast cries out as Stiles frantically looks around for places to hide. Then he finds it, the small janitor’s office whose lock he has picked many times before to play practical jokes on Finstock. He moves up, pulling at the door, finding it locked.

“Come on, come on!” he yells, pulling the handle so hard it breaks off. Frantically Stiles searches his pockets, finding nothing. Angrily he kicks the door, finding it slamming open. The Beast screeches. It’s very close now.

“Oh crap,” Stiles mutters, pulling Liam over the floor straight into the small closet. Hastily he pulls the door shut as he listens to the sounds coming from outside. The Beast roars, people scream. And then Scott roars too, luring the Beast towards him, away from them. He must have heard him shout.

His heart pounding in his chest, Stiles listens to the sounds, until the cries of the Beast fade. He pushes the door open and peeks outside, just as someone tries to peek inside of the closet. He shouts once more, horrified that the creature might have found them. Hayden stares at both of them, her dark eyes so large it seems as if she’s seen death.

“Oh god, Liam!” she cries out.

“He’ll be fine,” Stiles says. “We have to trigger his healing somehow. It will take too long otherwise, he’s too badly hurt, Hayden.”

“How do we do that?” she asks frantically.

“I don’t know. We have to get him out of here first. Get him to safety. Help me, Hayden,” Stiles urges her.

Hayden’s presence helps Stiles to focus on the here and now and forget for a while that the younger wolf is virtually dying in his arms. She leans down, touching Liam’s face.

“Hayden, focus!” he barks. Both of them help Liam into a classroom.

“The desk.” Stiles clears it with one big haul, dropping everything to the ground. Liam grunts as they push him on the desk, both of them staring at the huge, sickening wounds that cover his entire body.

“It’s bad,” Hayden cries.

“No, it isn’t,” Stiles mutters, unwilling to give up, but fighting his own battles.

“What do you usually do in cases like this?” Hayden asks terrified.

“I usually faint. Might still do that,” Stiles mumbles, blacking out for the third time in a row.

“Stiles!” Hayden’s voice brings him back immediately. He looks at her shocked. And then, as he watches her kiss Liam, kick-starting his healing process, he stares in amazement. She knows how to trigger it, and she does.

“Next time I’ll kiss him,” Stiles mumbles, grinning a moment long when Hayden smiles.

He leans back against a table and watches how Liam starts to heal fast now, the wounds mending itself with the speed of sound. He still doesn’t know how it work, but it amazes him every single time. It’s the one thing he’s jealous of, especially with a head ready to explode.

“I need some rest,” he mutters, but the others don’t hear. He turns to the door dazed, all adrenaline leaving him. Stiles just wants to get out of here and catch some sleep, but he knows he can’t as long as the Beast is still out there.

“Don’t go out there,” Hayden shouts when she realizes the older teenager is ready to open the door.

“Stiles, stay here,” Liam urges, sliding off the table.

“I have to find the others,” he mutters, just as harsh, heavy pounds on the classroom door shake them all up.

“Oh god, it’s back,” Hayden cries out.

Stiles stares at her in shock, knowing she might be right.


	4. Hayden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again so much for commenting!  
> Next chapter coming up. Hopefully you'll enjoy this one too ...

**Chapter Four: Hayden**

“Stiles. Stiles, it’s me. Open the door.”

The three of them take a deep breath when they hear Malia’s familiar voice at the other side of the door. Quickly Stiles opens it, pulling her in and shutting the door again before the Beast is able to locate them. They shouldn’t worry though, Malia is alone in an empty hallway, not counting a few scared teenagers scurrying off outside.

A gigantic roar is to be heard throughout the building, making it apparent the Beast is still inside. The sound of the roar echoes through the empty hallways.

 _We need to get out there,_ Stiles thinks, praying nobody is getting hurt right this moment. _I need to find Scott before he gets himself killed._ His thoughts are cut off immediately by Malia, grabbing him tight, her fingernails digging into his skin.

“Oh god, I’ve been looking all over for you, Stiles. I thought you had been killed,” Malia whispers, embracing him so fiercely he actually feels his shoulder sting and his lungs being pushed together. He looks surprised that she’s so concerned, but brushes it off. He’s not used to her being so emotional, but then again, they all are off tonight.

“We’re fine,” he reassures her, persistent in not showing her that he’s feeling crappy. “We’re all okay. Did you find Scott and Kira yet? Where are they, are they safe?”

“Kira’s fine, she’s outside,” Malia explains hastily. “Scott told her to leave because her power’s all off again. Her parents took her with them so she wouldn’t accidentally hurt anyone, they arrived a few minutes ago. I’ve told them you’re here and that I would get you out.”

“What about my dad, have you seen him? I have to get to him.” Stiles waves his hands. “I don’t have my phone on my and I haven’t been able to make it to the locker rooms yet to find it with my clothes. Do you have your phone with you?”

“Yeah, but all lines are down, we messed the electrical circuit quite a bit. But they must be on their way,” Malia says, “I’ve been hearing sirens all over the place. It’s only been a few minutes since the Beast got in here.”

“It feels like forever,” Stiles mutters, shaking his head. He’s been blacking out quite a few times, has lot any track of time. To him it feels like they’ve been here all night, but in reality it must have been a couple of minutes, just like Malia says.

“Okay, so we have to help,” Stiles says. “I need to get out there, to get kids out, Malia.”

“No, you don’t have to do that,” she retorts immediately, to his surprise. He’s not used to her being so overprotective. “Kira’s parents have been taking a lot of kids out, but we’re not sure if anyone’s still inside hiding, so I’ve been taking a look around. Everyone’s all over the place now. The Beast is trying to get at a few kids who are trapped at the library, so Scott is trying to lure it away from them. I spoke to Braeden before the game and told her to head over if she heard anything gone wrong, I’m pretty sure she’s on her way with some pretty big guns by now.”

“It won’t be enough,” Liam mutters from his position, moving towards the door too with the help of Hayden. “I need to get out there and help Scott, Malia. He won’t be able to handle this alone.”

“Not in the state you’re in,” Stiles says determined. “Sit down before you collapse, Liam.”

“Look who’s talking,” Malia mutters, but Stiles doesn’t react.

“I’ll go, after we’ve taken Liam out of here,” Stiles says. “If Braeden brings guns, I’ll help. I can shoot too.”

“No, you won’t, Stiles,” Malia says sharply. “You’re not able to help Scott like this either. Have you seen yourself? You can hardly stand on your own two feet. You found and saved Liam, now leave the rest up to us. Take Liam out and head to the hospital for treatment. You’re hurt.”

“I have to do something, Malia! We can’t just sit around and wait for that thing to kill my best friend,” Stiles snaps, his head throbbing. “I’m fine, stop protecting me, okay? I’ll sleep when this is over, but not right now.”

“We won’t sit around either,’ Liam says, as the last of his skin knits and he looks like himself again. Stiles stares at the amazing healing process, realizing once again how freaky all of this is. “I’ll go help him, Stiles, I’ll be fine, I propose. Just get Hayden out of here for me, okay? I need her to be safe.”

“I –“ Stiles stops when Liam puts a hand on his arm.

“I need you to take care of Hayden, Stiles,” he whispers. “Please. You’ve been helping so much, please do this for me. You know I can heal, but you can’t.”

“I’ll go with you,” Malia tells Liam, looking troubled at Stiles. “But Stiles, this is one part where you can’t help us. You have to remain out of harm’s way, not get into the path of the Beast again. He’s not after you, that’s for sure and right now, there’s nothing you can do, you can’t battle it. We need your brain, not your strength right now.”

“And Lydia?” Stiles mutters, knowing he’s losing the verbal battle against his friends for once.

“She’s on her way over, but I told her to stay in the car and not come in. She can help drive kids away from the school. She was with Gerard, Parrish and Argent apparently,” Malia says. “We have to keep her safe too. You can work with her to figure this out. That teenager is still unknown, we need to find out who he is soon, or it’s over.”

Stiles nods, rubbing his face. He’s so tired, his mind is trying to tell him something, but what?”

“If he wasn’t on the field, then where was he?” he mutters.

“We’ll figure that out later,” Malia says, pulling Liam by the arm. “Are you ready?”

The young beta nods. “Let’s do it.”

“It came from the buses. Why did it come from there?” Stiles suddenly asks. “Who was left on the bus, when everyone was out on the field?”

“I don’t know and right now, all that matters, is the kids and saving our school,” Malia urges.

Stiles nods, finally giving in. “You’re right, Malia. Hayden, we have to get as many kids out as we can. I know some more passages they can use to hurry out of here. If the Beast is at the library, we can lure them away from that area and get them to safety. My dad will be coming soon with a lot of extra forces too, just like Malia says, we just need to buy some time.”

“Where do you think he is?” Hayden asks, thinking of her sister.

“Probably responding to a zillion frantic calls and remembering there’s nothing he can do without dozens of guns,” Stiles mutters grimly. “Hayden, let’s go.”

“I don’t want to go without Liam,” the young Chimera says, staring at her boyfriend.

“This time, you have to,” Liam replies quietly. “Hayden, Stiles is right. You have to save lives while we keep the Beast distracted and busy.” He kisses her briefly, persuading her immediately.

Reluctantly Hayden agrees, heading out with Stiles as Malia watches them go with fear in her heart. She didn’t tell him that she saw her mother once more, lurking around the building. She knows the Desert Wolf won’t harm him now, she’s merely observing. But she will act quickly. In two nights there is a full moon. As of tomorrow, her power’s growing to a level that will allow her to become stronger and more powerful. She won’t hesitate to take the lead now.

Malia will have to protect Stiles, no matter what. It’s her fault he’s in the middle of this all. He had asked her not to search for her mother, and yet she did. She had ignored all the warning signs and allowed this woman to enter their lives and threaten their very lives at a very vulnerable moment. She knows this will not end well. She needs to tell Scott too, she needs to apologize and confess. But not right now, now is not the time.

The were coyote heads out towards the library while Stiles and Hayden search through every hideout, trying to find as many kids as they can. Stiles guides them all out, telling them where to go. They follow his command as if he’s their leader. Hayden watches it quietly, realizing the older teenager has already been through a lot. He knows what to do, he’s experienced. And that somehow frightens her. What if their future is nothing but this? What if they are now forced to protect those who cannot protect themselves?

She doesn’t realize that something’s wrong with Stiles, not even when he sways on his feet. She doesn’t notice because she’s too busy worrying about Liam. She doesn’t realize he’s been hiding the truth from her, knowing all too well she would spot his lies immediately.


	5. The Sheriff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for those commenting and following this story!  
> Many moments of family-feels, hurt/comfort and friendship coming up. Hope you'll enjoy!

**Chapter Five: The Sheriff**

While the battle at the library continues, Stiles searches through all of the rooms for remaining teenagers, helping the last ones out. Then he sees the sirens, the doors slamming open and shut, the voices calling out, at the same time as a huge roar. Instantly there’s people running towards the two of them. His dad, followed by deputies with guns, searching for the creature that has taken of.

“Stiles, oh god,” his dad says, embracing him relieved. “Are you okay? I was so worried about you. Thought you were –“

“I’m fine, dad. We’re all okay,” Stiles interrupts him. “We don’t have much time, I think we got most kids out, but some are still at the school, hiding from the Beast.”

“Where is that thing?” his father asks, not even caring that the deputies hear it all. There’s a lot they can explain, but not this. They’ll have a lot of patching up to do later on.

“The last we know, it was at the library, but you can’t head out there, dad,” Stiles warns him. “This thing is so powerful it will kill you with one blow.” Stiles stares at more deputies entering the school, grim and eager to finish this creature. “No wait, stop!” he tells them, running towards them. “You can’t attack it. It will not die from guns or bullets. It’s too risky! You’ll set it for more terror.”

Without listening to the teenager, the team heads towards the library, rifles pulled out and ready to shoot.

“Dad, please stop them,” Stiles pleads as he follows his father. “They will all die!”

“I can’t, Stiles,’ his dad tells him, hardly listening to his son as he scans the area. “This is what we do. We’re here to protect people, that’s our job.”

“That’s what I’m doing too, dad,” Stiles urges. “Please! Listen to me, this thing cannot be stopped by guns. You know that, you’ve seen it. It will kill you all in a heartbeat and there won’t be anything you can do about it. You’re walking towards your own death.”

“Stiles.” The Sheriff grips his son tight, understanding his fears all too well. “You know we have to go. If we don’t head out there now, who will? Who will protect all of you?”

“Scott will.”

“He’s just a kid, just like you, Stiles,” his dad frowns. “No matter what I’ve seen from you all, and believe me, I do trust in all of you, if this thing is really so dangerous, he will die. Do you want him to die?”

“No, dad. But he stands a better chance than all of us,” Stiles says softly. “Please, listen to me.”

“Then I’ll help him as much as I can.”

Stiles watches his dad head out determinedly, and stops talking. He knows it’s futile. His dad is right, this is what they do and he knows that someday, it might end up killing them all. But he’s proud of his dad too and the decisions that he makes to save everyone. That’s what got him hurt in the first place.

God, Stiles aches. He just wants to find a quiet place and take care of his shoulder, feeling the all too familiar old ache and pain shooting through him. He’s hurt himself again, somewhere tonight. He doesn’t even remember when the pain started again, but it’s there. He imagines what it must look like again. If only he could go home tonight and forget for one brief moment that the Beast is still out there. He needs to sleep, but he doesn’t even remember how long ago it was that he last slept like a baby. That seems like forever ago.

A huge roar, followed by the crushing sound of glass scattering all around, stops the Sheriff and his deputies and Stiles’ thoughts. Stiles looks up startled too before following his father to the library. There, they find the Beast gone. It jumped out of the huge glass window. Malia hurries towards him, grabbing Stiles by the arms again, that same familiar look of happiness that he’s spotted. He knows she’s hiding something, now he’s sure of it.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she says relieved.

“Where’s Scott?” he asks concerned, knowing she’ll evade any question he might ask. As soon as she sees the others approaching, she cuts short her concern and takes a step back, proving to Stiles she is indeed hiding something very important. He makes a mental note to ask her about it later, when he’s not so tired.

“He’s after the Beast, along with Liam,” Malia says. “That thing just jumped outside.” She turns when Braeden approaches them, guns in both hands, causing a few deputies to frown. His dad is there too, heading towards the bounty hunter, who couldn’t care less. She has permits to carry her guns.

But it’s not the sheriff Braeden is looking at, it’s Stiles. She eyes him up and down, opens her mouth to say something but decides against it.

“We have to find them,” Stiles says, ignoring the bounty hunter. Before his dad can stop them, Stiles, Braeden and Malia head outside, following the trail of scattered glass towards the parking lot, where the others are. And there, Stiles gets it. All of a sudden, he realizes who the Beast is.

It was the kid no one ever thought about, the kid that helped them, that discovered the frequencies, that was part of their pack somehow. The human kid, just like he once was. The one he sympathizes with, because he’s just like him. Or maybe he never was. He’s a chimaera too, making him no longer just a regular human being.

Stiles gets it, when the nagging feeling that he had for quite some time, comes back to haunt him. There were only two kids inside the bus, he had sent them there himself. He knows what the boy is going through, because he’s been there too. Mason.

He sees Scott and Liam talk to him from a distance, sees how they argue with him. And then he’s suddenly gone, taken by Corey, when the truth about his identity is revealed.

“It’s Mason,” Liam breathes in shock, staring at the others, finally stopping at Stiles as he remembers what he was told about the Nogitsune. “He tried to kill me.”

“I know,” Stiles says sadly, feeling sorry for the younger wolf, because he knows how the young wolf feels too. Once, Scott went through the same. Once, Stiles tried to kill him in cold blood. And not just once, but several times.

Gently, Stiles places a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “We’ll save him, Liam. Keep the faith, we will figure this out. We’ll get him back, I promise. Scott will do all he can.”

Liam nods sadly while Stiles and Scott look at each other with the knowledge Liam doesn’t possess. Stiles knows that Scott will save Mason somehow. He never gave up on Stiles either. But the cost will be high, that is without a doubt.

“So what do we do now?” Liam asks in tears. “Scott, I need your help to figure this out, okay? You have to help me. I know I messed up with Hayden before, but Mason is my best friend, he needs help. You can’t leave him.”

“I won’t,” Scott swears. “He’s part of us, Liam and he won’t be abandoned. And you’re right, things are different now. We are together again, as one pack. We will find him together, right?”

“Right,” Liam smiles briefly, troubled.

Scott looks at Stiles in despair, leaning into him as he whispers, “Where do we start? I’ve lost his scent when Corey took him.”

“The tunnels,” Stiles says immediately. “He’ll be out there, once the Dread Doctors get to him. And they will get him, Scott, that’s just a matter of time.”

“How can you be so sure?” Liam asks concerned.

“Because they are on a different frequency and they know what’s going on in this town,” Stiles says tiredly, closing his eyes briefly. “They’re using the tunnels as a way to move around Beacon Hills and they have their shelter there too. You need to work together with Theo, he’ll know where they are.”

“No, not Theo,” Malia replies sharply, “he’ll betray you, that’s what he always does.”

“Not if you give him something he really wants,” Stiles mutters, rubbing his forehead, still talking with closed eyes.

“Stiles, are you okay, dude?” Scott asks, looking at his best friend. “You look terrible. And you’re bleeding.”

The others look at Stiles, seeing and smelling at the same time what Scott is referring to. The teenager sways on his feet, feeling exhausted now all adrenaline is leaving him. And his head started bleeding again too, a small trickle of blood pouring down his face. But that’s not what causes the scent of blood.

“I’m fine,” Stiles brushes them off. “Just tired.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing, I just need to get some rest when this is over,” Stiles mutters to no one particular, as Malia and Scott stare at him, surprised when Stiles grabs the hood of Mason’s car and sits down on the trunk all of a sudden, sagging down as if he has no strength left.

“What’s wrong?” Scott asks frantically, scenting that old familiar smell of blood he’s gotten to know ever since Stiles was bitten by Donovan. He sees it then, the tell-tale of the dark mark colouring the dark of his shirt. A tell-tale of the darkness that took him when he was nearly killed.

Stiles automatically touches his shoulder, wincing at the pain, shaking his head as he fights the pain.

“He was thrown against a bus,” he hears Malia say through a hazy fog, as Scott kneels down and examines Stiles’ pale features. "It must have reopened that old festering wound.”

“Stiles!” His father comes rushing to them and just stares in shock at his son, who blinks his eyelids and then simply slides off the hood, straight into Scott’s arms, his eyelids drooping as he does. That’s the last thing Stiles knows for a while, as he sags against Scott’s chest.


	6. Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much again for liking this story!   
> A lot of hurt in this chapter. A review is welcomed of course. Thank you for reading!

**Chapter Six: Stiles**

 

Instantly the parking lot is crawling with pack members and sheriff Stilinski, staring at the teenager that collapsed in front of their very eyes. Others stand afar, watching the scenery unfold. The entire school is upset, people are all over the place, deputies are searching for the Beast, unaware that Mason has vanished and taken the shadow with him.

“What the hell happened to my son?” the sheriff barks, calling for medical help as Scott lowers an unconscious Stiles to the ground. Malia removes her sweater and gently places it under Stiles’ head, biting her fingernails as she watches. His scent is back on the fabric, she thinks, as she silently beckons him to wake up. Unfortunately he doesn’t move at all.

From the far end of the parking lot, Lydia comes rushing too, her face distressed while watching Noah Stilinski and Scott kneeling down at Stiles’ side. Malia grabs her hand, pulling her closer. The banshee doesn’t need to ask what happened, she already knows. She sensed something was completely off as she drove over distressed after leaving Gerard and Argent.

The sheriff doesn’t understand what is going on, holding Stiles’ hand in his own, no idea what caused his collapse.

“Stiles, wake up kiddo,” he beckons his son. “Come on, open your eyes.” Then he looks up at the group of friends that stand quietly around them. “Can someone please tell me what the hell happened to my son?”

“I don’t know,” Scott admits, “I was looking for the Beast at the library and we lost sight of one another. The last time I saw Stiles was at the Lacrosse-field. I honestly don’t know what happened after that.”

“He threw himself between Liam and the Beast after they fought,” Malia informs them all. Liam just nods to confirm. “That creature slammed him against a bus before I could stop it. He passed out for a very short while, but that’s not the problem. It’s the wound on his shoulder, it’s reopened because of the attack.”

Scott sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Oh god, I’d forgotten about that. That’s the scent I’m catching, isn’t it? I thought it had healed.”

“Wound?” Stilinski looks up surprised. “What the hell are you talking about, what wound?”

“Stiles was bitten by Donovan when they fought at the library,” Lydia says quietly. “On his right shoulder. We all knew about it, but he denied it right after it happened and never showed us what it looked like afterwards either. I just know it never healed properly but he was too stubborn to show us, he seemed too upset when we addressed the subject.”

“He told me it was a forever reminder to what happened,” Scott says quietly. “He said it was fine, that it was just a scar now and that it didn’t hurt anymore.”

“But it did,” Malia replies quietly. “He was still rubbing his shoulder when he thought nobody would see. Didn’t you notice?”

“Hang on. Wait!” Sheriff Stilinski interrupts them sharply. “My son was bitten by that kid weeks ago and none of you ever even bothered to tell me about it?”

“I thought he had told you,” Scott admits. “After you knew the whole story, I figured you guys had talked about that part too. Hell, it took me forever to get him to even open up about it. He never really did tell me the whole story though, he just said Donovan attacked him and that they struggled. I’ve never seen it either.”

“Neither did I,” Lydia confesses, “but I know it was pretty bad.”

“Enough to – to change -?“ Stilinski stops emotionally. “Please tell me my son isn’t –“

“No, he isn’t,” Scott quickly interrupts him. “Wendigos don’t turn people, they’re cannibals – they –“

“Wait. I don’t want to hear this either,” Stilinski stops him rudely, tears of frustration in his eyes. “You are telling me that my son was bitten by a freaking cannibal? Oh god, what the hell has been happening to Stiles lately? This is a damned nightmare, all of this is. This shouldn’t be happening. We have to take a look at it. Where is that ambulance?”

“They’re on their way,” Liam says, “I can hear the sirens in the far distance.”

Gently the sheriff moves his son onto his side with Scott’s help, pulling back his clothes so he can take a clear look at Stiles’ shoulder. Everyone holds their breaths when they finally see it, the awful proof of the attack Stiles barely survived when none of them even had a clue of what was going on. It isn’t healed at all, to their shock.

Scott closes his eyes ashamed, recalling how he had told Stiles off that night in the rain without even knowing about this wound. Even though all has been forgiven and forgotten for a couple of days now, Scott still has trouble remembering that moment where he had sent Stiles away without knowing the whole truth, pushed emotionally and mentally by the Dread Doctors, Theo, Hayden’s illness and all that was going on.

When they patched things up later on, Stiles had told him over and over again it wasn’t his fault at all, that he should have trusted them all with the truth after Donovan’s death. He confessed he had been too ashamed of what had happened that night, how he had felt relief when the wendigo died and that he had been too scared of what would happen to the pack’s morals and his dad if he did confess the truth.

“If anyone’s to blame for the confusion, it’s me,” Stiles told Scott that day in the jeep, when they spent hours driving towards the Skinwalkers to get Kira back, after recounting the tale about the tiny little pin he pulled out of the scaffold, sending it all down on Donovan, shoving the wendigo straight into hell. “I should have picked up that phone and called you straight away after it happened, but I was –“

“You were in shock,” Scott completed the sentence. “You were out there alone, hurt and bleeding and you weren’t thinking straight. I get that, Stiles. I get why you didn’t tell me, but it was self-defence and we all know that. If you had told me, I would have believed you, but I get why you didn’t.”

“You wouldn’t have killed him,” Stiles spoke softly, barely able to look at Scott. “You would have found a way out. You would have saved him. That’s what stopped me. I felt like a failure, a beast, no better than when the Nogitsune took over. I thought you would see me as that dark soul again shoving a sword right through you.”

“But you aren’t, and I’m not sure I wouldn’t have killed him,” Scott interrupted him. “If I didn’t have my fangs and claws, I would have fought for my life too. You weren’t to know the scaffolding would kill him, Stiles. You were trying to escape, to survive. You are human, just like you reminded me, rightfully so, that night in the rain. You had to defend yourself against something so angry and vengeful. Donovan would have killed you in a heartbeat without giving it a second thought. You’ve been caught up in all of this from the start without anything to defend yourself, except for that steel bat of yours.”

Scott’s words delivered a smile on Stiles’ face, but it still didn’t lessen the blow or the blame he put on himself, despite what anyone said. Stiles’ worst enemy was himself, it always had been.

“It still doesn’t change the fact I killed him,” the human teenager spoke softly, barely able to stare at Scott.

“You didn’t kill him on purpose. He was killed in the process of you trying to escape,” Scott corrected him. “That’s a whole different ballgame, you know? How do you think we would have felt if we had found you dead or mutilated in that library the next morning? How do you think I would have reacted? I would have dug up every single stone of this world to find the bastard that did that to you, I would have taken revenge, somehow. I’m not happy Donovan’s dead, Stiles. I’m not glad he’s gone, I feel sorry for what happened to him. But I am oh so happy that you’re here with me, unharmed and okay.”

Stiles winced at that, automatically touching his shoulder when Scott spoke those words. Not completely unharmed, the werewolf remembered thinking at that time, but even then he had no clue how bad the truth really was. Stiles would never say, not even then, what he had gone through.

Scott just knew that Donovan had hurt him somehow, but not that the bite had been so bad it still numbed his arm a few weeks after, that it still ached to even pull on a T-shirt or a sweater. That he often felt feverish, burning up, sweating and aching. If only he had known.

“Scott,” Noah Stilinski mutters. “This is awful. Oh god.”

“I didn’t know,” Scott mutters, staring at the gruesome bite in shock. “How the hell can Stiles walk around with his arm like that? It’s –“ He stops, feeling absolutely nauseated at the sight of the mutilated shoulder Stiles has hidden for weeks now. They all realize there will forever be a gruesome scar as a reminder of that night and all that happened later on.

If Stiles had confided into them, they would have been able to treat the wound, to repair the damage. Now, it was left uncared for, festering like a disease underneath and above the skin. What if it never becomes okay again? What if he will forever ache whenever he uses his shoulder?

Lydia places a comforting hand on Stilinski’s shoulder. “It will be okay,” she whispers. “It has to be. Stiles is a fighter, he’ll pull through.”

Noah doesn’t reply, but he feels terrible. The stress is written all over his face.

Several sirens approach the school rapidly now. They’re not just here for Stiles, but for students in shock. Kids who are so upset with the Beast that they have to be taken care of. A few deputies move back to the school, leaving the sheriff with his son, speechless still.

“It’s never going to stop, is it?” the sheriff asks quietly, completely in shock, speaking to no one in particular, not even realizing at that moment that he’s still surrounded by the quiet pack. “There will always be a new monster, a new danger, a threat trying to kill you all. My son has been through so much already, how am I supposed to protect him like this? How can I stop any supernatural enemy of trying to kill him?”

Scott doesn’t have the answer, but he feels the pain. The sheriff is right. Stiles is into this because of the bite, because he fell victim to Peter Hale’s wrath. If only they hadn’t been there that night. He regrets it for a moment, before realizing Stiles would kick his ass for thinking that way. What is done, is done. There’s no way back now.

An ambulance stops, a doctor and two medical helpers rush to the scene to take over. Their presence shakes the sheriff out of his haze as they push him gently aside to take care of Stiles.

“My son has been bitten by an animal about two weeks ago,” Stilinski explains with broken voice, “the wound was never treated properly and has reopened because he was thrown against a bus. I never knew he was hurt, he didn’t tell me because he was – we were all too busy.”

He stops, unable to continue, so he goes back to holding Stiles’ hand, staring at the extremely pale and drawn face of his exhausted son, guilt written all over his features.

“That wound looks terrible,” the doctor in charge says, staring at the raw, infected flesh and its rough edges, prodding it gently. Blood is gushing out of it as soon as he touches a deep cut, slashing deeper than the others through skin and flesh. Pushing pads against the wound, he tries to wake up Stiles, who remains unresponsive. Finally he looks up at the teenagers and Stiles’ dad for more information on what happened to the teenager.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” the doctor says. “What else happened to him, did he show signs of acting strange or off somehow? He’s burning up. Have you noticed he was feverish before?”

“He had a headache,” Lydia says, to the surprise of her friends, because she couldn’t have seen that happening, telling the doctor from her banshee experience what she noticed. “He was swaying, feeling nauseated and definitely showed signs of a concussion. He’s bumped his head pretty hard right before and a second time shortly after. The fever comes from the wound, I’m sure.”

Stiles moves and mutters something, his hands flailing as he tries to grab a hold of someone. Noah grabs his son’s hand tight again, trying to get his attention while the doctor and medical staff places an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose and insert an IV to push fluids into him.

“I’m here, son,” he says firmly. “We’re all here, you’re going to be fine.”

Stiles mumbles something he doesn’t hear at first, but when the sheriff leans over his son’s face, he listens intently and catches onto what he says.

“Mason,” Stiles slurs. “Save Mason.” The sheriff stares at Scott, who closes his eyes and rubs his eyelids, his silence telling the sheriff that Mason is the Beast. The realization dawns on the town’s caretaker, feeling another stab at the realization that again the darkness hits close to home.

“Is it true?”

Scott nods.

“We have to find him,” Liam says urgently.

“We will,” Scott says, “but I’m going with Stiles now. He needs me too.”

“So does Mason!”

“Malia can go with you,” Scott says, “but I can’t go with you, Liam.”

“No,” Stilinski says. “Stiles is right, you guys have to get out there. Scott, you can’t do anything for him, you have to focus on what’s going on. He would want that. I’ll go with my son.”

“So will I,” Lydia says, “I’ll stay with him at the hospital.

“And I will too,” Malia interrupts immediately, her nervousness startling the others. “Scott, please tell me I can stay with him.”

“Why?” Scott asks suspiciously, “what’s going on?”

Malia, unable to reply without shaking voice and shame in her words, says nothing but focuses on Stiles, who is being lifted onto a gurney and strapped in. Her eyes don’t dart off for a second, as if she’s afraid he’ll get more hurt, even now.

“It’s Malia’s mother,” Braeden tells them as soon as Stiles is being wheeled into the ambulance, out of earshot of the doctors and those who don’t have to hear this. “She was here, at the game, and she knows that Malia still cares for Stiles. She threatened to hurt him to get back to her daughter. She means it, Stiles isn’t safe.”

“Oh god,” Stilinski sighs tiredly. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish I was,” Braeden says, directing her attention on the sheriff. “You need to protect your son at the hospital at all cost, sheriff. This woman is cunning, malicious and very, very smart. She’ll stop at nothing and find a way to get to Stiles. No matter what, make sure he’s never alone out there, because she’ll take any chance she’s got to get to him.”

“What the hell for?”

“It’ll weaken Malia. She knows that her daughter is still bound to Stiles, even if they aren’t a couple anymore. He’s her one weakness and with him gone, Malia will lose her determination to stop her mother.”

Noah Stilinski nods in understanding and moves into the ambulance with his son, beckoning for Lydia and Malia to come too. One gaze at Scott tells the werewolf what to do. The werewolf sighs and resigns to the situation. Then he beckons Liam and heads off to find Theo, to find Mason. It’s all they can do right now, even when his heart is with Stiles and he feels the urgency to be with him. As the ambulance doors close and the vehicle takes off, Scott feels as if a part of him has gone. He knows Stiles is not fine. Not fine at all.


	7. Melissa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much again for the comments, kudos and following of this story! I'm amazed at all the positive comments and feedback.  
> This is a bit shorter, because it's quite busy at the moment, but I promise to post the next one on Saturday and that one will be pretty long. On with the show ...

**Chapter Seven: Melissa**

As soon as the ambulance starts moving, the doctor is focusing on stabilizing Stiles. The teenager doesn’t look in mortal danger, but he’s definitely not healthy either. Lydia curses herself for not noticing the darkness under his eyes and the feverish flush before.

The banshee stares nervously at sheriff Stilinski, who hasn’t taken his eyes off Stiles for quite some time, scanning in his son’s pale features. The teenager hasn’t stirred or moved since the ambulance took off.

“He’s taking a time out,” Malia remarks. “That’s all. He’ll be fine, he’ll wake up soon.”

Stilinski nods, as if he agrees. “You’re right. He hasn’t slept much lately, he’s exhausted. I can always tell by his behaviour and the way he holds his shoulders, you know. He doesn’t want to show me, but I just know.”

“We’ve been through a lot,” Lydia remarks.

“All of you have,” Stilinski retorts, but he doesn’t continue when he notices the doctor’s odd glance. He can’t discuss anything with the teenagers right now, knowing he would give too much information to people who live outside the supernatural realm. Decent, regular humans, who have no idea about the double life so many of them lead these days.

Oxygen is still floating into Stiles’ nostrils and mouth, the IV is pushing fluids into him. The doctor is measuring his fever and vitals, frowning his forehead when he sees how high his temperature is.

“He’s very sick,” the man tells the sheriff quietly. “By the looks of it, that wound has been infected for quite some time. He must have had fever for days now, have you never noticed that he was so sick? Did he never complain or act differently?”

“Stiles is always agitated and things have been quite rough over the past couple of weeks,” the sheriff admits. “I didn’t notice, I’m sorry. He was unwell before, but he was doing okay lately. I thought we were past that –“

Noah stops, choking on his tears, unable to confess any longer that, after the hospital and what happened with Theo and Scott, he hasn’t had the time to talk properly to his son about the events any longer. Life has to go on in Beacon Hills as it always does: Eventful, painful, deadly. Just another day.

The ambulance stops at the ER-bay. Instantly Melissa is there with a couple of medical helpers, who help wheel Stiles inside, straight into a small room with loads of medical equipment. There, the sheriff, Lydia and Malia are told to wait outside.

Stilinski starts pacing while Malia listens in and tells them what they’re doing.

“Concussion,” she says. “Not severe but needs to be monitored because he’s unconscious. Dilated pupils. Bump to the head. Bruises on the back of his legs and lower back. Looks like he took a pretty bad blow when the Beast threw him against the bus.”

Stilinski sighs deeply. “Oh god. Why the hell did he have to go and play the hero?”

“Because he doesn’t want to stop helping his friends,” Lydia replies quietly.

“They’re talking about his shoulder now,” Malia says. “Deep, old wound. It’s badly infected, very deep, into the flesh. Bleeding from fresh cuts, reopened the old injury. They’re rinsing it, but it might not be enough. They’re submitting inflammatory meds and antibiotics right now. He’s breathing shallow, high fever. Spiking. Oh god.”

“What?” Stilinski stares at her, grabbing her arm.

“They say he might slip into a coma if he doesn’t wake up soon. The fever’s too high and the wound is very badly infected.” Malia stares at the sheriff in shock. “They say his body may go into cardiac arrest if they don’t get the fever down.”

Before she even ends her sentence, Noah rushes into the emergency bay and stares at Melissa, who is placing cool pads all over Stiles’ body. He’s lying on the table on his side, in his boxers only. The first thing the sheriff sees, are the huge bruises on his back. Then he stares at the wound being rinsed by a few nurses. It’s worse than he thought in the harsh light of the emergency room. The man feels his stomach twist. Biting back bile, he rushes towards his son and grabs his hand.

“You’ll be fine, Stiles,” he whispers, “just hang on there, kiddo.”

Melissa grabs Noah by the arm and pulls him backwards, gently taking him outside again. The man is devastated, the sight of his son lying on that table like this, shockingly enough to send him into nightmares for weeks to come.

Someone else takes over and places a cooling blanket over Stiles. In his IV they push anti-infection medicine, as much as they can and dare without putting pressure on his heart. He hasn’t moved or spoken yet.

“I know what’s wrong,” Noah says, stopping Melissa’s attempt to explain what’s going on. “Malia listened on.”

“So you know that his shoulder is pretty bad.”

“Yeah.”

“We’re going to get him through this, Noah, we have to,” she speaks firmly. “I promise you we’re doing everything we can to help Stiles. You have to keep the faith that he’ll be okay. He’s been walking around with that wound for quite some time and was able to function properly. If he’s strong like that, he can make it through this.”

“Or maybe this is the final drop,” Noah speaks with broken voice. “How much can one person take, Melissa? How much longer before he breaks?”

“He won’t,” she says, but her voice doesn’t sound convincingly.

“What kind of father am I, that I would allow my son to go through this?” Stilinski mutters. “How can I sit back and watch?”

“You aren’t,” she replies. “Neither am I, nor is Chris. We know that this is happening and that our kids are involved, but we’re there for them. You’re doing all you can. You have to believe that in the end, it will all work out.”

“Will it? And when is that going to be? When my son is maimed? When a creature like that Beast throws him so hard against a bus next time that he’ll break his neck?” Noah Stilinski shouts, his voice audible through the hallway. People look up and stare at him in shock.

Melissa drags the sheriff into a separate room, followed by Lydia and Malia, who stare dazed at the man’s outburst. This isn’t the sheriff as they know him, but they understand where his rage is coming from. Sometimes, it’s just too much.

“I’m picking up bodies all over the place, Melissa,” he sighs, bursting into tears. “Tonight, my kid almost became one of them and it’s not the first time either. He was nearly killed by my own deputy, he was attacked by a wendigo, he had his ears bleed when he tried to save Lydia. And that’s only in the past couple of weeks, not even counting all the events before. He had a freaking _demon_ inside of him. What am I supposed to do?”

“Pick up the pieces and move on,” Lydia quietly says.

Stilinski looks up. “Why are you the ones saving Beacon Hills?”

“Because we choose to be,” Malia retorts. “That’s what I learned over the past few weeks. I tried _not_ to care, but I did. I do. And I won’t stop now. I will never turn my back on this place. You know that Stiles will always come back too, no matter what, no matter what place he is in at a certain moment in life. He’ll come back.”

The door opens, showing a doctor entering the room.

“Sheriff, your son is awake and asking for you. You have to come _now_.”

Before he finishes, Noah is up and running outside, hearing his son’s agitated calls for him instantly. Stiles is awake, but he’s not fine. Not fine at all.


	8. Lydia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very very very much for the comments on this story! I promised a longer update on Saturday, and here it is.  
> hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 8: Lydia**

It’s bad.

That’s the first thing Lydia thinks when she rushes after the sheriff and Melissa into the Emergency cubicle where they were treating him. Malia pulls up her nose, as if she can smell the sickness on him. She probably does. Even Lydia gets it, the scent of old and new blood, mingled with infected skin, flesh and probably even bone.

Before they were pushed out of the room, they had seen Stiles lying on his side, being supported by several nurses who were placing cool pads all over him while others were taking care of that gruesome wound he had neglected to take care of as some sort of self-punishment.

Lydia knew precisely why he had done it: He was exactly the same as she had been back at Eichen House. Protective over others, but never over himself. She had wanted them to leave because she knew they would die if they stayed by her side. Stiles had known the others would have worried too much about him if he had shown them the truth. And he had carried a burden so large with him, it changed him forever. Stiles is not the same teenager he once was, and he never will be again.

He’s grown up. He’s changed. He’s grown stronger, both mentally as physically. He’s been taught the harsh way how to take care of himself. Donovan’s death had a larger impact on him than the nogitsune had, but the darkness of those weeks where he had been taken over, were also still lingering inside of him.

Self-punishment, she sighs as she gets a clear look on the wound that is now threatening his life. Because he felt he didn’t deserve anything else. What had Theo said to him again? That he had more blood on his hands than anyone else. That he was still Void, that the darkness lingered inside of him, for the rest of his life. Stiles would have to deal with that, one way or the other. Someday, he would. If he lived beyond this night.

For a moment they all think that Stiles is unconscious again, but he’s not. He’s wide awake and confused, not understanding why he’s at the damned hospital, stuck on a medical table with loads of people surrounding him. He cries out in pure pain, because not a single drug seems to be able to take away the most horrid aches that run through him.

His shouts are all over the place, so strong and hoarse that it makes the others cringe at the sound of it, knowing that treating the wound by rinsing it and putting thick globs of salve on it, is literally too much.

The wound has damaged the nerves below the skin, cutting so deep now that it takes over. He’s suffering from the hardest pain possible, the one that third degree burn victims go through when they are facing flames.

Stiles cries out at a constant rhythm, rocking his body at the ache. He tries to push hands away that are working on his shoulder, tries to get rid of all those who are causing the pain, but it doesn’t work.

“It burns,” he repeats in between cries. “Dad, it burns so much.”

“Get him sedated,” Melissa calls out, but the attending doctor refuses.

“He’s got a concussion, I won’t knock him out. We need him awake, Melissa, or he might slip into a permanent coma.”

“Not like this,” the nurse hisses. “He’s suffering, doctor Wilkinson. You need to help him!”

“I am. We’re pumping him full of drugs as much as we possibly can without knocking him out. But it’s not enough. He needs to calm down, or he’ll hurt himself even more,” Wilkinson says, looking at the sheriff. “You need to calm your son down, sir.”

Before he can finish his sentence, Noah is by Stiles’ side, grabbing one warm hand while someone else flexes the other, moving the bad shoulder in a constant rhythm to avoid frozen shoulder. The treatment continues, pain clearly visible on Stiles’ face.

“Dad, it hurts. It hurts.”

“I know, son.” The sheriff rubs repeated circles on Stiles’ hand, forcing his son to look at him, to calm down. “I’m here, kiddo, I won’t leave you. I know it hurt, but they all want to help you, to make sure you’ll get well, okay?”

Stiles shuts his eyes, only to be shaken awake again immediately by doctor Wilkinson, who refuses to allow his patient to slip away. Melissa places the oxygen mask back on Stiles’ face.

“Stiles,” she says, “listen to my voice, concentrate on the oxygen flow. Take deep breaths in and out, okay? It’ll be okay. Try to focus out the pain, try to think of good things, of nice memories.”

“There are no nice memories anymore in Beacon Hills,” Stiles whispers under his breath, but audible enough for Lydia, Malia, Melissa and the sheriff to hear. Lydia knows what he means, and it breaks her heart.

Not so long ago they were standing together at the library, putting their initials on the bookshelf, remembering Alison and Derek as they did. They had thought about their futures outside of Beacon Hills, what it would look like to become a college student, far away from the place where darkness rules.

That seems like a lifetime ago, before Theo came, before the Dread Doctors. Even then, right after Derek had left and placed a hole in their hearts, they were relatively happy. But always waiting for a new threat. Always expecting darkness, because of the sacrifice they did. Because of the Nemeton, the beacon of the supernatural.

Stiles said to her it was their fault Beacon Hills now was the way it was. He said they deserved everything they got. He was right, in a way, and then he wasn’t. Deaton had spoken to him afterwards, had told him that this town had always been attractive for the supernatural creatures that exist. It just became more visible now, after the sacrifice that changed it all. It was a small comfort for Stiles, but not enough. The darkness in his heart is forever there and will never go away again.

That is also why he’s here now, why he feels he deserves every ounce of pain he gets.

“Stiles?” Lydia steps forward and grabs her best friend’s hand, squeezing it tight as she rubs her fingertips over the warm skin. “You saved me, Stiles. You got me out of that hellhole. Now let me help you.”

Slowly she moves forward and places a kiss on his forehead, feeling again how hot it is. He’s very sick, the temperature rising despite the cooling blanket and pads that they are constantly replacing. It doesn’t do any good at all.

The wound has been cleansed at long last, medical pads cover the scarred and damaged skin, but it won’t be enough. The suffering is not over yet.

“He needs to be checked every ten minutes,” doctor Wilkinson says, as he barks orders to move Stiles to the ICU. “He can’t fall asleep, and we need to monitor that shoulder. The red colour of his skin doesn’t look good. It’s infected and inflammatory, I’m afraid the infection has spread to the bones.”

“It has,” Lydia says quietly, looking up at the doctor. “You might not be able to save his arm. Or his life.”

Wilkinson stares at her. Then he nods quietly.

“Doc, tell me the truth,” Noah says, grabbing him by the sleeve. “How bad is it?”

“Worse than before,” the man frowns, rubbing his face. “I’m sorry, sheriff, but I have no idea what caused this bite and what kind of rabid animal we are talking about here. He has been infected by something I cannot even explain, let alone treat properly. I can tell you this though: If the infection spreads to his heart, it will affect his heart muscle and he will go into cardiac arrest. I’m doing everything I can, with every possible antibiotic I can think of. I’m just afraid it won’t be enough.”

“You are doing your best, doctor,” the sheriff says quietly. “It’ll be fine. You’ll figure this out.”

“Will I? I’ve had the lab search for all sort of animal-like diseases, such as rabies, but they came up with nothing. Whatever the hell bit him, I sure as hell don’t recognize it.”

Stiles listens quietly to the doctor’s words as he lies on his side, his hand still in Lydia’s. He knows and understand what they are saying about him and he knows that they are right. Nobody can treat a wound caused by a wendigo. They’re animalistic cannibals, a combination of humans and beasts, a myth, phantom, unseen by normal humans. There isn’t  a cure. But then again, perhaps there is.

Stiles grabs Lydia’s sleeve and pulls her closer to his mouth. “H-Human,” he whispers.

Lydia stares at him surprised. “What do you mean?”

“C-Cannibal. A w-wendigo is mostly human. Bite contains s-saliva.”

Lydia looks up and faces doctor Wilkinson, taking deep breaths before she speaks. “Doctor,” she says quietly. “What if he was bitten by a rabid human?”

Wilkinson frowns and stares at Stiles’ padded shoulder. “Are you saying this kid was bitten by a human?”

Lydia nods. “That is exactly what I’m saying.”

The doctor frowns again, looks at Melissa and then sighs deeply. “Of all the things I’ve seen over the past few years, this is by far the weirdest. And it even makes sense. Melissa, get some more blood samples and send them to the lab. Instead of searching for animal like diseases, have them look into anything human. Let’s get this kid transferred to the ICU right now and let’s keep him alive until we know more.”

Stiles grins slightly at Lydia when they lift him on a bed and move him out of the room, with his dad, Malia and Lydia by his side, determined now to leave him alone. As he’s wheeled towards the elevators, he starts to feel slightly better. Thank god for good drugs, he thinks wearily.

“You might have just saved your own life,” Lydia whispers, stroking his face as she falls into the same pace as the bed. “I’m so proud of you.”

Stiles smiles and continues to focus on two things: Oxygen and breathing. Now that the pain is slowing down, he actually feels like he might stand a chance. When he looks up, he sees that Malia has placed her hand on his leg, pulling pain in without anyone seeing it, grinning at him when she spots him staring at him.

Thankful for small mercies, Stiles smiles back.


	9. The Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all your comments! I'm dwelling off the canon timeline a bit to serve the story. It will still follow most of it, but in my version of the story, there will be a few days before they actually find Mason.  
> You won't notice much of it, but consider this a heads up ;)

**Chapter 9: The doctor**

No matter how hard he tries, Stiles is just not able to stay awake, so he stops fighting and allows his eyes to droop when he’s being wheeled through the hospital corridors. He vaguely hears the clicks of Lydia’s shoes, before dozing off for a very long time. He doesn’t even remember being pushed into his new home for the time being.

The tiny glass room, one of ten at the ICU, holds a pale, sleeping teenager, hooked up on several machines that monitor him. His shoulder is padded with thick bandages, his head is resting on thick pillows that support him. He’s totally out of it, drugs pumping into him to take away some of the pain.

Malia watches the frown on Stiles’ face. Despite the daze he’s in, his body still seems to react to the levels of ache that his nerves are going through. The doctor explained to them how the damage from the bite has pushed through the outer skin and flesh on his shoulder, deeper into the nerves and muscles that lay right beneath them.

“He should have reported this soon,” Wilkinson said tiredly, not understanding how his new patient was able to walk around with this for weeks. “Why didn’t he come to the hospital earlier? And who the hell did this?”

“I don’t know,” Stilinski admits, watching his sleeping son. “I think he was just preoccupied.”

“Without realizing how badly injured he was? He would have felt this.”

“And then brushed it off, like he does with everything,” Lydia interrupts the doctor. “That’s what he does, he hates attention.”

“Well, if he had sought out help before, he wouldn’t be faring this bad right now,” Wilkinson sighs. “You do realize he’s not out of the woods yet? I am doing all I can to stop the infection from spreading, but his shoulder is very red and he’s still running high fevers. I can’t help more with what I’m doing right now.”

“Except when you get the test results back,” Lydia points out.

“If they should anything,” the doctor mutters, not so convinced that they will. “Listen, why don’t you guys go home and get some rest? You can’t stay here anyhow, this is the ICU, only limited visiting time to give the patient rest.”

“I’m not leaving,” Malia says sharply. “I’m won’t leave him out of my sight. He’s in danger.”

Wilkinson frowns, but before he can react, Noah Stilinski steps in. “My son needs to rest, we understand that, doc, but these kids have gone through a lot. Please let them stay, they won’t bother anyone.”

Wilkinson sighs, but realizes he’s too tired to really care. The gaze the girls shoot him tells him they won’t go out without a fight and he just can’t handle that in a time when the hospital is so crowded with upset teenagers claiming they’ve seen a monster at the school, so he caves in quickly.

“You do know he won’t wake up tonight?”

Stilinski nods. “We know. Stiles needs all the rest he can get right now.”

Wilkinson leaves them alone with Stiles, ordering the nurse on night call to make sure that he remains sedated so his shoulder can rest.

“Shouldn’t he be staying awake with that concussion and all?” Noah asks troubled.

“No, he’s okay,” Lydia says, “the doctor said it wasn’t that bad, in fact, he was very lucky to survive that throw. Shows again how strong he is.”

“He always mocks himself as being the weak human, but he’s actually quite fit and strong,” Malia reacts, her eyes resting on Stiles.

Lydia looks up surprised, for a moment wondering if they’re back together, but the girl doesn’t mean it like that. Malia knows that Stiles is past the point of loving her and she’s okay with that, just like she’s fine with having him as one of her best friends. In fact, she often wonders why Lydia and Stiles won’t get their act together, but she never asks. It’s okay as it is right now, she supposes.

They drag three chairs into the room and close the glass door that divides this room from the central area and the other ICU-units. Noah falls asleep with his hand on his son’s wrist almost immediately, knowing Stiles is okay for now.

Lydia doesn’t show any signs of sleeping and turns her attention to Malia instead. But before she can ask anything, Scott enters the cubicle too and stares shocked at his best friend, who looks as pale as a ghost right now.

“Oh god, is he -?”

“Scott, he’s not in a coma or anything,” Lydia hurries to tell him, “but he is very hurt. His shoulder is badly infected, he’s running high fevers and the doctors are worried the infection might spread to his heart. However, they’re doing all they can and he’s not showing any signs immediate danger right now. This is a precaution to make sure he won’t seize or anything.”

Scott doesn’t know what to make of Lydia’s words. She tells it like it is, and despite the fact she reassures him Stiles is not in danger at this moment, it definitely doesn’t sound like that. Lydia beckons him to sit down and so he drags a fourth chair in, careful not to disturb the sleeping sheriff.

“Did you find Mason?” Malia asks.

Scott shakes his head. “Not yet, he vanished without a trace, literally, thanks to Corey. God, that kid acted so stupid.”

“He did it because he loves Mason and wants to protect him,” Lydia rectifies. “You know what it must have felt like to him, Scott. You went through the same with Stiles.”

“I know.” Scott frowns, remembering the Nogitsune and all they experienced when Stiles was possessed. “This is about the same, isn’t it?”

“It is, and we have to help Mason and Corey as much as we can.”

“I don’t even know where to start looking,” Scott admits. “Nothing makes sense anymore. If he’s the Beast, he is responsible for killing dozens of people. How can someone like Mason do that?”

“It’s not Mason who did it,” Stiles whispers hoarsely, his throat so raspy it takes him time to speak properly. Immediately the three other teenagers shoot up from their chairs, staring at their friend who is wide awake now, even pumped up full of the good stuff. Noah reacts shortly after, startled by their sudden movements.

“Stiles, you should be sleeping,” his father reprimands him, staring at his feverish son who has difficultly focusing and winces as he tries to touch his shoulder.

“I can’t,” Stiles admits, “I feel awful, dad.”

“I know, son, but sleep allows you to heal.”

“My chest hurts, dad.” Stiles’ voice sounds small. “I feel like I can’t breathe.”

“Like a panic attack?” Scott asks worried.

“No, it’s like there’s a weight pushing down on me,” Stiles explains, pushing his own hand against his torso.

“God, you’re burning up,” Lydia says, pressing the call button frantically, but Malia has already ran out of the room to get someone.

Two seconds later, Melissa enters the room, ignoring the visitors as she pages doctor Wilkinson frantically, holding a list of lab results. Another nurse follows her in.

“He has tetanus,” Melissa tells them urgently. “I can’t even begin to explain how rare this is after a human bite, but that’s what’s causing the infection and we need to stop it from spreading right now.”

“What does this mean?” Noah asks troubled.

“We need more and adapted medication.” Melissa looks relieved at Wilkinson entering the room, barking the same at him. The doctor immediately grasps the seriousness of the situation and starts ordering around, as more nurses rush into the room.

The next thing they know, Stiles is convulsing. Every single muscle in his body seems to work, causing him to black out immediately as his eyes roll back.

“Melissa, what the hell is happening?” Noah shouts.

She doesn’t listen but helps doctor Wilkinson as they prepare to intubate Stiles. Immediately all sorts of medication are being added to the already heavy dosage. Lydia notices a tetanus shot, morphine and anti-tetanus medication to stop the spreading. But she knows that if they are too late, the infection might already have caused major damage to Stiles’ heart. He’s been walking around with this for weeks and nobody even noticed.

“They’ve basically knocked him out,” Lydia tells the sheriff quietly, “to calm down the spasms caused by tetanus, the sedatives and added morphine are there to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself and stop the convulsions and the respiratory device is to help him breathe.”

Stilinski nods. He knows it’s bad. Very, very bad.

Wilkinson makes sure his patient is resting peacefully before he takes them all outside and talks to them.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “but I’ve done all I can. All we can do now, is wait.”

With that, the group is sent to the waiting area, no longer allowed to stay at Stiles. The only one who returns to be at his son, is Noah.


	10. Dad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much for your comments and following this story!   
> This chapter is all about Noah Stilinski (I love that name by the way!) and his loving affection for his son. Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 10: Dad**

Noah hardly notices the people outside his son’s small glass cubicle, doing their best to save his son’s life. Every ten minutes there are people coming into the room to check Stiles’ vitals and monitor his progress. They smile at him in comfort, trying to get the sheriff to lie down and get some rest, but the sheriff won’t budge. The last time he fell asleep, he woke up to find his son aching and calling out in pain. He won’t allow for that to happen again.

His warm hand is clasped around Stiles’, squeezing his son’s fingers on occasion while knowing Stiles won’t wake up. He’s in a drug-induced stupor right now and the doctor and nurses have told him that they won’t allow Stiles to wake up any time during the night, just to make sure he recovers better and faster from the tetanus.

Wilkinson, working through the night, came back some time later to tell the sheriff that the results he received from the lab are more detailed now. Despite the situation they were in, he smiled relieved.

“We got there in time,” he says. “Stiles’ detailed bloodwork revealed that he does have tetanus, but fortunately the infection isn’t fatal and he’ll recover completely from it. He is very sick, mind you, and he’ll take a couple of days to even start feeling human again, but in the long run, after some weeks of rest, he’ll be fine.”

“My son doesn’t rest,” Stilinski smiles wearily. “You’ll have to tie him to a bed.”

“Then if that’s what it takes, we’ll do that,” Wilkinson replied laughing. “Sheriff, I promise you that your son will be fine, but he has to keep in mind that he might have this infection in his blood for quite some time. Some people never recover fully from it, but in his case, as he’s young and strong, I have good hope that he will.”

“Thank you, doc,” Noah sighs. “Without you and Melissa, he might not have been here right now.”

“He’s a fighter.” Wilkinson gently places his hand a moment long on the sheriff’s shoulder and turns around to leave.

“Doc, what’s going on at the ER?” Noah asks before he heads out. “How many casualties?”

“Fortunately not a single fatality, but there are dozens of people out there, mostly kids, who were genuinely frightened and needed a lot of psychological support. I have no clue what happened out there at the school tonight, sheriff, but whatever the hell it was, it was real. This couldn’t have been mass hysteria. Your son is at the moment faring the worst, if that’s comfort to you, somehow.”

“It is,” Noah says, knowing exactly what the doctor is referring to. He’s glad he doesn’t have to pick up any dead bodies tonight, that Scott and his pack were able to stop it.

“By the way, do you know your son’s a hero?”

“What?” Stilinski looks up surprised. “What are you talking about?”

“He got out dozens of kids at the school, did you know that? He was running through the building getting everyone out. They said he was bleeding, but acting very much in control, telling a lot of people where to go. A lot of people are asking for him at the lobby, to thank him.”

“Stiles did that?” Noah asks surprised. Then he smiles broadly. “Yeah, that sounds like my kid.”

“You can be proud of him.”

“But I am,” the sheriff replies without hesitation. “Always, when he’s acting like the goofball he is by heart.”

Wilkinson smiles at that and leaves the room, allowing the sheriff and his son to be alone. Noah doesn’t want to gaze at the tube down Stiles’ throat but he can’t keep his eyes off it. Without that thing stuck in Stiles’ mouth, he would be able to hear his voice when he wakes up. Now, he feels as if Stiles won’t ever be able to talk again.

He should get up and tell the others how Stiles is doing, but he knows Melissa is taking care of that. Somehow the sheriff isn’t able to move his legs at all, he’s so dead tired it feels as if he won’t ever be able to get up again. So he just sits there and waits, with Stiles’ unmoving hand in his.

Around six a.m. Wilkinson is back again with Melissa, both sporting dark rings underneath their eyes. Noah gets up and takes a step back, seeing how they check Stiles once more. Then Melissa turns to the sheriff and grabs him tight.

“His fever has gone down, his heartbeat is pretty much back to normal. We’re going to get the tube out of his throat now and see how his body reacts.”

Stilinski smiles relieved, rubbing his hand over his tired forehead. Tensed, he watches the actions of the doctor and nurses that have gathered around Stiles’ bed to help him. Relieved, the sheriff sees how Stiles is breathing peacefully on his own.

More drugs are administered, but the morphine and other sedatives are tuned down.

“Now we just have to wait until he wakes up,” Wilkinson says. “I’m heading home out, but my colleague, doctor Jones, will take over. All the best of luck to you, sheriff.”

“Thank you,” Noah expresses heartfelt, turning to Melissa, who immediately gets the message.

“I’ll get the others,” she says, referring to the pack who have been staying in the waiting room all night, sleeping on the seats while waiting for more news.

As soon as she leaves the room and Noah is alone with his son again, something changes in the room. A small cough escapes Stiles’ mouth, immediately followed by blinking eyelids, make the sheriff jump out of his chair.

“Stiles,” he urges. “Son, it’s me.”

He watches his son struggle to wake up. At first Stiles fails to do so, until he once again makes an effort to open his eyes.

“That’s it, kiddo, you’re okay, you’ll be fine.”

Stiles looks at his dad, without skipping a heartbeat remembering what happened to him and how he got here. The teenager can only imagine what his dad must have gone through, waiting for him to wake up and he feels shame that he has gotten to the point he nearly got himself killed because he didn’t tell anyone about the bite.

“I’m sorry, dad,” he croaks.

“Don’t be, son,” Noah replies gently, gathering his son into his arms, pulling him against his own chest. Stiles immediately calms down by the warm gesture of his father and clings onto the man who is the most important person in the world to him.

“I love you dad.”

“Love you so much, kiddo.” With that, Noah loses it and weeps, clinging onto the son he nearly lost. He feels Stiles patting his back, carressing it almost, as if to comfort his dad.

"It's okay," the teenager sooths, "it's okay dad."

Noah smiles through his tears. Stiles is right: It’s going to be okay. From now, all will be okay. It has to be.

 


	11. Scott

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very, very much for following this story!   
> This chapter is all about Sciles and discussing some things that urgently needed to be discussed!

**Chapter 11: Scott**

Scott is the first one to notice Stiles wide awake. After a restless night, brooding over the situation at hand, going from Stiles to Mason to the Dread Doctors, the wolf is absolutely exhausted.

It feels as if he’s been sleep deprived for months now, as every single bone of his body aches. Fortunately, that feeling passes quickly as he moves up and stretches his limbs, one of the benefits of being a werewolf. He hasn’t felt any real human ache since he got bitten, even though getting hurt still hurts like a bitch.

Scott has often wanted to offer Stiles the bite, especially in situations like this, when his best friend is hurt and sick, but he knows that he doesn’t really want it. He has had plenty of opportunity to ask for it and get it, but never did. Even when the going got though and Stiles was at an all-time low, he never really seemed to consider it.

Scott knows why: Over the past few years, having a human amongst their supernatural pack, has proven more than once to be very useful. Even a few days ago, while getting Lydia out of Eichen House, Stiles was the one who could go past the barrier and save her life. Granted, it was Parrish who stopped the banshee from screaming them to death, but in the end it was Stiles who first got to her because he could.

And that wasn’t the only time that he saved one of them. Scott remembers all too well the flare that he was planning to throw on himself, caused by the wolfsbane inhalation that affected all the supernatural beings. If Stiles hadn’t been there, he would have been dead now. There was no doubt in his mind that he would have done it.

Scott sighs and rubs his face as he heads towards the ICU, hoping to sneak in while the others are still sleeping and it’s early morning still. The nurses might not stop him at this hour of the day, which is what he’s hoping for. They all know he’s Melissa’s son and that brings some special privileges.

Noah Stilinski is still vast asleep when Scott quietly enters the cubicle after a gentle nod from one of his mother’s co-workers. The man’s hand is still clinging onto Stiles’ as he snores quietly, sitting in an uncomfortable chair that he’ll probably regret having picked out in a few minutes.

Stiles is wide awake, staring at his dad in wonder. He must have just woken up, Scott realizes, and he looks a lot better. His heart rate has returned to normal, the anxiety and that god-awful stench coming from his infected shoulder, has reduced to an absolute minimum. The fever has broken.

“Hey Scotty.” The smile on Stiles’ face says it all. He looks, feels and sounds a lot better, almost ready to get out of here and pretend nothing has ever happened, which he has always been pretty good at. “What’s up? Did you find Mason yet?”

“You’re okay,” Scott says relieved, followed by a surprised, “are you seriously worried about Mason in the state you’re in right now?”

“I’m absolutely fine,” Stiles reacts, gently moving his hand from his father’s grip. The next thing Scott knows, Stiles is shoving the blankets backwards and moving his legs, while wavering his arm. “Can you please get someone to get this damned IV out of my arm?”

“You are absolutely insane if you think I’m going to allow you to leave this room,” Scott retorts immediately. “You are in the goddamned ICU, Stiles. Do you have any idea what happened last night?”

“I do, and yes, I am aware this is the ICU,” Stiles replies, pointing at his sleeping dad. “Can you please lower your voice, dude? I don’t want to wake up my dad.”

“He should be awake to listen to your idiotic words,” Scott replies angrily. “Stiles, there’s no way in hell I’m going to allow you to leave like this, okay? You are staying put while Liam and I go back out there and find Mason and the Dread Doctors.”

“Scott, I can help,” Stiles offers, pulling at the IV-needle.”

“Stop, Stiles. Just stop!”

Scott’s sharp voice finally wakes the sheriff, who looks up confused.

“Why are you so upset?” Stiles asks his friend, who becomes angrier by the second and has difficulty holding himself together. Scott literally is standing there, pushing his fingernails into his own skin to be able to control himself.

“Maybe because you lied once again,” the werewolf says. “Maybe because you forgot to mention how seriously hurt you were. How you were masking your fevers and scent to us with sudden overly used deodorant and eau de cologne. How you knew exactly how to cover your injury up by wearing hoodies and longsleeved sweaters. How you never bothered to tell me that that wound was still festering. You nearly got yourself killed, Stiles, by neglecting your own health. How can I protect you if I don’t know any of this?”

Stiles stares at his best friend in shock and then flushes a scarlet red when he realizes all too well that Scott has every right to be this upset. He stares at his dad, who lowers his eyes for a brief moment. That is the moment Stiles realizes that he nearly died. This wasn’t just an illness or a badly treated wound, it could have been fatal. It nearly was.

“I’m sorry.” Stiles sinks back against the pillows and plays with the sheet covering his legs, pulled up again by his dad, who gently then places a hand on his son’s wrist. “I didn’t realize, Scott, I swear. I thought it would pass. I thought – “

“You thought we were all too busy dealing with the Beast to notice,” Scott interrupts him. “Did you really think we care more about that than you?”

“No, of course not!” Stiles exclaims. “It’s just, I felt –“

“You felt it was your punishment,” Noah says. “That’s it, isn’t it? It was your reminder that Donovan had died. You felt you needed the pain as a constant reminder because that wound proved that you did something awful.”

Stiles nods quietly, not noticing the tears falling on his hands.

“Stiles, you don’t deserve this, okay?” Noah speaks quietly, standing up and hugging his son. “That kid died because he attacked you. He died because he wanted to kill you. He died because he bit you. You didn’t attack him. You didn’t kill him. You tried to save yourself. You were hurt, much more than you even realized. You were trying to get away, you were trying to survive.”

The sheriff releases his son and smiles as he steps quietly out of the room, leaving Scott and Stiles alone.

“You look like hell,” Stiles remarks. “Did you sleep at all?”

“No,” Scott admits. “How could I, with you lying in here like that? Never do that to me again, Stiles, please. This was one of the worst things that ever happened to me, after the Nogitsune.”

“I won’t,” Stiles promises. “Or I’ll try, at least.”

“You should have told us,” Scott says, sinking down on Stiles’ bed. “And I should have noticed that you were still off. You were quiet, but then again, you have been for quite some time.”

“I’m good at hiding things,” Stiles smiles weakly. “It’s my fault, Scott. Not yours, not anyone’s.”

“Why can’t you trust me anymore?” Scott asks hurt. “Why didn’t you confide in me?”

“I do trust you!” Stiles nearly shouts. “We are back the way we were, Scott, there’s no doubt in my mind that you and I are okay again. We talked about it, we mended the broken pieces, we are okay. But –“

“But the focus should be on the Beast.”

“And Theo,” Stiles blurts out. “Theo is just as much responsible for all of this. What he did to our pack is unforgivable.”

“Yet you still want me to work together with him.”

“Because he has the knowledge. It doesn’t mean you have to trust him,” Stiles smiles sadly. “If anything, this whole situation has taught me that friendship is fragile. I don’t want to go back there anymore, Scotty. I want to spend the rest of my life being your friend, being the one you go to when you are sad about Allison’s death, the one that will be there for you whenever anything happens.”

“And I want you do the same,” Scott says, grabbing his best friend’s hand. “We lost something back then.”

“But we got it back.”

Scott smiles. “Yes, I believe we did.”

“I love you, Scotty.”

Scott hugs his best friend tight, feeling warmth surge through him when he realizes that Stiles is absolutely right. He has him back.

“I love you too, man.”

Stiles snorts. “So when can I get the hell out of here?”

Scott laughs. “Nice try.”


	12. Braeden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much again!   
> This chapter is pretty much ignoring canon's timeline, but will again go back to canon in the next one.   
> This only to serve the story ;).

**Chapter 12: Braeden**

 

“You don’t understand, doc, I’m fine! I just want to get out of here.”

Scott sighs and smiles as he listens to his best friend, arguing with Doctor Wilkinson and Melissa, who are both adamant about their decision to keep Stiles one more day at the hospital.

“You may seem fine on the outside, but that tetanus infection won’t just go away, Stiles,” Melissa explains patiently for the third time. “You still need intravenous antibiotics and pain medication. That wound isn’t okay yet, it needs to be rinsed every few hours and we want to monitor your heart and overall condition for the next twenty-four hours.”

“It wasn’t tetanus,” Stiles brings in as a desperate last resort. “It couldn’t have been, I was bitten by a –“

Wilkinson lifts an eyebrow. “By what?” he asks sharply, because this is what he has been waiting for since Stiles was brought in.

“A guy,” Stiles mumbles without giving further explanation. “A human. Humans don’t carry tetanus.”

“I don’t know why you’re lying,” Wilkinson brings in, “but that was no human bite. That was animal, combined with human saliva, I grant you that. How the hell that happened, I have no idea, but I’ve seen so many things in this town I can’t even begin to explain, so I won’t go there. The thing is: This _is_ tetanus, Stiles, and you risk suffering from its consequences for the rest of your life if you don’t do as we say right now.”

Stiles sighs. “But I need to help my friends.”

“Not at the expense of your own life,” Wilkinson brings in again. “And that’s final. Besides, your dad asked me to cuff you to your bed if you even attempted to get out of this room.” With that, the final word has been said. The doctor leaves the room and smiles at Melissa and Scott.

“At least we moved you to a private room,” Melissa smiles. “That’s something, right? You’ve got television, internet, you can help that way, by researching.”

“We already know Mason is the Beast,” Stiles mutters, “so what is there to research?”

“We still don’t know why he’s a chimaera,” Scott brings in. “Lydia is looking into that right now, she’s been trying to find out what types of chimaera there are out there and what would explain Mason’s choice. The Dread Doctors didn’t experiment on him, so why did they pick him? He never showed any signs.”

Stiles looks up at Melissa. “Because he’s a medical chimaera, isn’t he?”

Melissa smiles back. “I wish. We didn’t find any skin graft procedures like Tracy and Donovan in his records, nor surgeries that would explain this. I’ll have to dig deeper. There might be something in his medical history we don’t know anything about. I’ll need more time.”

“Can I help?” Stiles asks. “Please, Melissa. I’m going crazy in here.”

“Stiles, you were moved here from the ICU half an hour ago. I need to rinse your wound, you’re going to be hurting, you’ll be on pain meds and you’ll be sleeping, because I don’t want you to go through that when you’re vivid, trust me. We’ve seen how you reacted before when we tried to clean up that wound. So you’ll sleep it off. That’s what you need to do today. Rest, so you’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“And when I wake up, I can help,” Stiles stubbornly says. “You know I can.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good.” Satisfied with his little victory, Stiles leans back against the pillows and drums his fingers. “What are you going to do, Scott?”

“Liam and I are going back into the tunnels to find them.”

“You still haven’t spoken to Theo?”

“I’m not sure if I want to.”

“You’ll have to. You need him,” Stiles pushes on. “He knows those tunnels by heart, Scott, and he knows where their lair is. You need to bribe him. Something for something, you know?”

“So you seriously want to work with him again?”

“In this case, yes,” Stiles says. “Just use him.”

“Okay, I’ll do that.”

“So, when exactly can I get out of here?” Stiles asks Melissa. “Twenty-four hours, right?”

“Under the condition your fever’s are completely gone, which they are not yet and which is why you’re so agitated,” Melissa sighs. “That the wound is doing much better, that your infection levels have gone down and that you are able to stand on your own two feet.”

“Deal.”

Melissa smiles as she runs her hand through Stiles’ hair. “So good to see you back to your old self, kiddo.”

She hugs Stiles and Scott, and then leaves the two of them alone.

“You can go now, Scott,” Stiles says, “just find Mason, okay? I’ll be fine. You don’t have to babysit me.”

“Actually,” Scott begins, but he can’t proceed, as the door opens to show Braeden and Malia in.

Surprised, Stiles stares at the young woman he last saw taking off with Derek in Mexico. He knew Malia was in touch with her and that she had helped save Deaton, but it’s the first time he sees her in the flesh. Then he vaguely remembers her being there when he collapsed the previous night.

“Braeden,” he says, “what are you doing here? Aren’t you chasing the Desert Wolf?”

The woman doesn’t reply to that question, but just looks at Stiles with a grim expression on her face. “Not today,” she says, sitting down in a chair, revealing two guns hidden under her leather jacket. Stiles whistles in surprise and admiration.

“Nice gear,” he mutters, “what the hell did you bring that to a hospital for? And by the way, where is Derek hanging out these days?”

“Michigan. He says hi.” Braeden fishes out her cell phone and starts tapping away, realizing she’s leaving a thousand open questions in the air that she is not supposed to answer.

“She hasn’t changed much, has she?” Stiles says, smiling at Malia who hugs him.

“Glad to see you up and about,” Malia says, “how’s the shoulder?”

“Good enough to hold you tight,” Stiles grins, showing his affection for the girl he used to date.

“Lydia says hi, she’s at home with her mom right now, trying to calm her down after what happened at the school. Mrs. Martin has a lot of cleaning up to do. Good thing she’s completely in the loop now.”

“Poor woman,” Stiles grins. “Poor Lydia.”

“Uh huh.”

Malia grabs Stiles’ hand and squeezes it tight. “How are you really feeling?”

“Tired. Exhausted actually. Aching.”

Malia starts drawing some of Stiles’ pain away, until he pushes her away. “You need your strength,” he says, “but thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Even though their relationship has come and gone, Stiles still cares very much for her, as she does for him. The first awkwardness of a break-up has long come and gone too. They’ve both moved on, able to rebuild their friendship based on trust. Stiles will never forget how she helped to save Lydia and how she stayed in the pack despite their silent break-up. He has thought about going down that path again, but he knows that this is not what they both want.

“I haven’t forgotten what you said to me that night at the bus and in the school,” Stiles says, gripping Malia’s hand. “Thank you for that. That was long overdue.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiles, pecking him on the cheek. “We need to talk, but not right now. Scott told me you wanted to leave today, but that’s not the best thing to do. Here, you’re fine and safe. That’s what’s most important right now.”

“Safe?” Stiles lifts an eyebrow. “Of what?”

“The Beast of course,” Malia replies too fast. “What else?”

Stiles knows she’s lying, but doesn’t reply. Scott hugs him.

“I’ll be off, will let you know when there’s any news.”

“Good luck, dude.” Stiles pats his best friend on the arm and watches him take off, troubled that Malia isn’t going with him. The girl sinks down in a chair and starts flipping channels on the TV, while Stiles sinks back and allows his body to relax. His shoulder does hurt and he still feels a bit off from the medication, he has to admit that an extra day here would do him good. So he resigns himself to the situation and argues with Malia over the choice of TV-programs, until they find a consensus.

Without a single word, he pulls his former girlfriend onto the bed. She immediately helps him to move over, so she can lie next to him, her head on his chest. Stiles smiles, patting her hair.

“Good girl,” he mutters. “Get some rest.”

“Shut up, Stiles,” she retorts grinning.

It doesn’t slip Stiles’ gaze that Braeden is constantly monitoring the windows and door of his room. He knows something’s wrong, but they won’t tell him until he’s ready. A few minutes later, Stiles gently snores, while Malia keeps her eyes open, fixing her gaze on the windows, making sure there are no surprise attacks from her mother.

“You have to tell him,” Braeden whispers.

“I know.”

“He won’t be too happy about this.”

“I know that too.”

Malia gently releases her grip on Stiles and slides off the bed. “What did I do, Braeden? I endangered everyone’s lives. I made such a big mistake.”

“You did it out of love. He knows that,” Braeden says quietly. “Is it true, by the way?”

“Is what true?”

“Is he the most important person in your life?”

“Yeah, he is,” Malia replies without hesitation. “But I’ve accepted that our relationship is over and I’m okay with that. But he was the first person I connected with, the one that kept me sane and human so many times.”

“Your anchor.”

“Yes.”

Braeden smiles. “It’s good to have that, you know.”

“I know. Unfortunately, she knows that too.”

A few minutes later Melissa comes into the room with two other nurses, breaking the peaceful silence.

“Do you really have to wake him up now?” Malia asks concerned.

“I’m afraid so, honey. That wound is too serious. Can you two leave the room for a moment?”

Melissa gently touches Stiles’ arm, waking him gently. The teenager rubs his eyes, groaning as Melissa smiles in sympathy.

“Oh god, my torturers are back,” he groans.

“I’m afraid so, Stiles,” she speaks gently. “We can try without sedation if you want, but I would recommend that you sleep for a short while when we rinse the wound. What do you prefer?”

“Can Malia stay?”

Melissa looks at the girl who nods, realizing what they are trying to do.

“Yes, she can.” The woman looks at her colleagues. “I can take it from here, Malia and Braeden can help. Why don’t you go check the other patients?”

The other two nurses leave. Braeden shuts the door, standing on Stiles’ bedside while Melissa gives orders.

“Okay, Stiles,” Melissa says, helping him to open the hospital gown to reveal his padded shoulder. “Let’s take this one step at a time. I’ll get those bandages off first and give you a local sedative in the arm that will numb the area a bit, okay?”

“Okay.”

Malia watches how Stiles pales as soon as Melissa starts pulling away the bandages. The lowest one sticks into the wound, causing him to wince as she removes it. Braeden and Malia hold their breaths as they see the injury.

“It still looks pretty bad,” the Coyote remarks sharply. “Why won’t it heal?”

“It’s actually looking better than yesterday,” Melissa remarks. “But it takes a while, Malia, you know that. This was an infected Wendigo-bite, not exactly your every day run of the mill injury.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m not used to seeing things like this,” Malia says.

“Stiles, can you sit up? It will go better if you can lean into Malia and rest your head on her shoulder. Malia, can you support Stiles and make sure he won’t move?” Melissa orders. “Braeden, if you help me with this basin, I can rinse the wound like this.”

The woman nods and quietly holds up the basin Melissa has told her to, so the nurse can work efficiently. Stiles is sitting up trembling, moving his head against Malia as told, feeling her hand on his arm.

“I’m going to give you the sedative now,” Melissa says, pushing a needle into Stiles’ arm. He immediately feels the numbness in his upper arm, grateful that it’s taking off the edge. Melissa pushes another syringe into his IV, knowing it will not be enough.

“You’re sure you don’t want to sleep, Stiles?” she asks, concerned about his trembling.

“Yeah,” he says. “I want to get my head clear.”

“Okay. Here we go.”

As soon as Melissa gets to work, Malia pulls as much of Stiles’ pain away as she possibly can. Black veins rush up her arm, making her stagger, but she won’t stop. Stiles can’t hold back a cry when Melissa cleans the wound as gently as she can, knowing she’s hurting him with every touch. The nerves are so sensitive it makes it immensely difficult for Stiles to deal with the pain.

When he cries out and bits his lips, Malia can no longer stand it.

“Sedate him,” she tells Melissa.

“No,” Stiles mutters.

“Nearly there,” the nurse replies gently. “Just hang in there, Stiles. You’re doing great.”

Malia notices how Stiles is zoning out completely. He’s hanging very quietly against her, barely reacting when she whispers his name. His eyes are closed, but he’s not unconscious. He’s forced himself to be in another place, far away from here, where pain can’t access him.

“Done.” Melissa quickly removes her gloves before covering Stiles’ injury again. “Stiles, you did great. Can you hear me?”

He nods, making the nurse sigh in relief. After his shoulder is rebandaged, the three women gently help him lean back against the pillows, making sure he’s comfortable.

“Is he okay?” Braeden asks troubled, when he won’t open his eyes.

“Yeah, he is,” Malia smiles, feeling how the pain is withdrawn from his body.

“Just rest now,” Melissa says, checking his vitals. “You need it.”

“I still want to get the hell out of here,” Stiles smiles with closed eyes, making them all smile.

“Knowing you, that won’t be a problem,” Melissa laughs. “I’ll come back in a few hours. I suppose you girls are staying?”

“Oh yeah,” Braeden says, sitting down again.

Stiles allows his mind to slip away, knowing Braeden and Malia are there all the time. Somehow, that feel quite okay.


	13. Kira

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter turned out to be quite long!   
> As promised, moving back to canon now and picking up the timeline of the show.   
> hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 13: Kira**

It took another four excruciating medical sessions, before Stiles started feeling the effects of the intense treatment given by Doctor Wilkinson and Melissa. The wound was still a ghastly sight to look at, but it was on the mend and they could clearly see an improvement as the day progressed. Stiles could feel it too with every single session, each one hurt less and he started finding a way to deal with the nerve pains. The need for painkillers in between was diminishing rapidly.

Slowly but surely, Stiles was able to use his shoulder better than he had in weeks. In between the treatments, he slept a lot in the morning and started using his laptop in the afternoon, despite Malia’s insistence he should rest more and her failing attempts to take his precious device from him. Knowing it wouldn’t work keeping Stiles away from research, she finally relented while Braeden sniggered, watching their friendly bantering.

Melissa offered to put Stiles’ arm in a sling to force his shoulder to rest when he would leave the hospital, but he refused adamantly, knowing that it would take another couple of weeks to feel completely better anyhow and he needed to learn how to use his shoulder in a way it wouldn’t hurt that much. He was right-handed after all.

Stiles wanted to be out there to help the Pack more than ever, especially with Mason still missing and so much going on, but he couldn’t do that if he was immobilized. Besides, with Malia by his side offering pain relief, he felt pretty good. He joked with Melissa that he would tie her to him, so she would be there all the time. He knew Malia would stay near him at all times, anyhow, she pretty much stated that many times without giving an explanation as to why. He knew she was still hiding her secret from him, but he would get to the bottom of it, he had vowed to do so.

Lydia hopped by during lunch, telling Stiles about her own research on hellhounds and the Beast of Gévaudan, coming back with info that scared them all. This creature had slaughtered more than a hundred and forty people and was named as the most gruesome werewolf ever. There was no way a regular person could kill him. They needed the pike that the Maid of Gévaudan had created with her own blood. That disturbed Stiles a lot, knowing that nobody even knew where it was and how to find it. If it was even still out there.

“It’s out there,” Lydia said, “I’m pretty sure of it. We’ll find it at the right time.”

Scott and Liam were still out there, searching for Mason all day, but they came up empty-handed and frustrated so far. Stiles heard the frantic way Scott talked about the situation, knowing he felt failed for not being able to track down the kid.

“You’ll find him,” Stiles vowed over the phone. “We all have faith in you, Scott. You’ll fix this, I’m sure of that.”

“I wish I had your level of confidence,” Scott sighed, “but I feel lost, Stiles. It’s like we’re digging in the dark, with nothing guiding us. The Dread Doctors must have them.”

“Or they might be searching for him too. You can’t give up hope, Scott. You never did when it came to me either.”

Scott became quiet after that, before sighing deeply. “I never thought we would be in this situation again.”

“But here we are, and I know you’ll find him. I know you will,” Stiles said firmly. “Now go back out there and keep on looking, Scott. Call me if you want me to help.”

Scott smiled at that. “That’s not going to happen, Stiles, but nice try.”

“Bastard,” Stiles muttered, but grinning at the same time. Scott was right, he would attempt anything to get out of here sooner.

His dad called a couple of times too, telling him that they were also on the lookout for Mason, but he seemed to have vanished off the face of the Earth.

“Keep the faith, dad,” Stiles said, “and stop munching on those fries you stole from Parrish’ desk.”

“Oh god,” Noah muttered. “My son’s a psychic. As if life isn’t hard enough.”

“You are the only one I know who chews on fries like this, dad,” Stiles reacted dryly. “Take a carrot instead.”

Stilinski still laughed while hanging up the phone, feeling extremely relieved his son was feeling good enough to comment on his bad eating habits.

During the first hours of the afternoon, Stiles started using his laptop more in between brief periods of rest and started to research online about genetic chimaeras, hoping to find more info on what the deal with could be with Mason. Melissa had made a copy of Mason’s medical record, making Stiles vow he would never lose it out of sight, as it would cost her her job if someone found out.

With the doors closed, Braeden, Malia and Stiles went through the file with a toothcomb, coming up emptyhanded after reading through every detail of it. Nothing on Mason’s medical report indicated that he was a possible Dread Doctor’s candidate.

“It’s hopeless, Stiles,” Malia sighed tired after reading all the medical mumbo jumbo, that was in essence pretty much limited. Mason never had that many medical problems before, apart from a broken arm and elbow after a bad fall, a minor car accident when he was a kid and a bout of pneumonia when he was twelve.

“No surgeries, apart from setting his elbow, so he could he be a genetic chimaera?” Braeden asked curiously. “Aren’t you barking up the wrong tree here?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles said absent-mindedly, trying to figure it out. He knew they were missing out on something, but it just wouldn’t come. He sighed and threw aside the file, rubbing his eyes, sliding out of bed to use the bathroom. When he came back, he tried to avoid the bed, but the glares from both girls made him crawl back in obediently.

“Have you heard anything from Scott and Liam?” he asked while Malia padded the sheets and congratulated him on being such a good boy.

“Yeah, they’re going through the tunnels, but nothing yet I’m afraid. No scent, no tracks, nothing,” Malia said. “Scott is down, you know.”

“They need to talk to Theo,” Stiles repeated. “And you should help.”

“Theo is nowhere to be found, apparently,” Malia replied. “Hayden said he’s abandoned her since she chose sides with us and that pretty much became clear after the school attack. She went to their lair but it was empty, everyone was gone.”

“Abandoned, as in deserted?” Stiles asked surprised.

“I don’t know, but she said there was still some stuff there, so it appears he might be coming back, Hayden said. But you seriously want to work together with that creep?” Malia asked troubled.

“No,” Stiles smiled wearily. “I want him to get what he deserves, but he knows the Dread Doctors better than anyone. So we use him, like he used us.”

“And then we kill him,” Braeden pitched in grimly.

“No, we don’t,” Stiles retorted, “but we do need to find a way to keep him on a leash.”

“And how do we do that without killing him?” Malia asked. “Braeden is right, Stiles. He needs to go.”

Stiles sighed, knowing Theo was too dangerous to let him wander around Beacon Hills just like that, but the truth was that none of them knew what to do with him. For now, their focus was Mason though, and for that, they needed to work together.

“We’ll figure it out,” Stiles said. Then he frowned. “I hope Scott’s okay though.”

“He’s pretty messed up,” Malia confessed. “Liam’s very upset and he doesn’t know how to console him. He doesn’t know how to deal with the Beast, Stiles. He feels like he’s running after the facts, finding dead people all over.”

“I can imagine.” Stiles glanced at his watch. “Melissa said she would come back one more time today. Let’s get that over with, so we can get the hell out of here.”

“She said tomorrow, Stiles,” Malia corrected him. “Not today. It’s not evening yet.”

“I’ve never been good with dates,” Stiles grinned, winking at Malia. “Leave that little titbit up to me, I’ll persuade her. Come on, Malia. Just admit you’re dying in here. You want to get out there and help, don’t you? What’s the point of sticking around here?”

“I do, but you are more important to me,” Malia immediately said.

“Why?” Stiles raised an eyebrow.

“Why you are more important?”

“No, why you are guarding me like this. Come on, Malia, don’t think I didn’t notice how you monitored the windows and the door all day. Every time someone comes in, you jump. What is going on?”

Malia shrugged. “I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“You were never like this before. You’ve never had trouble with me helping out the pack and walking around, no matter what problem,” Stiles frowned. “Come on, spill the beans.”

Before Malia can reply, the door opens, making both her and Braeden jump from their chairs. Stiles smiled, as if proven his point. Then he smiled again, knowing Melissa was here to treat him and he could work his magic on her. He would not let go of the occasion to get the hell out of here.

While Melissa rinsed the wound, Stiles fired question after question in order to make sense of Mason’s medical file. Melissa just smiled and replied patiently, knowing Stiles used it as a distraction from the ache she caused him by treating his injury. Malia was still holding his wrist to withdraw pain, but it had become less, just as Stiles was becoming more excited about getting out of his bed and the hospital.

Finally, he mentioned something that made Melissa think.

“What if it didn’t happen to Mason at all?” Stiles asked. “Maybe it has something to do with his genetic make-up, something that happened in-uterus. What if there was something with his mom or dad? After all, we are all created by the genetics of our ancestors. So maybe his mom was a chimaera?”

“That’s quite interesting and might be worth digging into,” the nurse said, finishing up her work as she shared a reassuring glance with a very tired Malia and Braeden, who had not left Stiles’ room ever since he was brought here. Malia knew that the nurse wanted to let her know that Stiles was doing just fine, which she sensed as well.

“So,” Melissa finished, removing her gloves. “Why don’t you call your dad and tell him to pick you up?”

“Seriously?” Stiles looked up surprised. “Now? You don’t want me to beg for it? I had this whole story ready for you and now I won’t have to use it on you?”

“Oh yeah,” Melissa grinned. “You can beg, but I’ll save you the trouble. Or do you really think I didn’t know how you were going to ambush me into letting you go?”

Stiles’ mouth fell open.

Melissa eyed him strictly. “Your dad and I get how you think, Stiles. He’s waiting for your call. Doctor Wilkinson wasn’t too happy, until I told him you would move hell and earth to get out of here, and that you can be quite a nuisance if you set your mind to something. The condition is that you keep on resting, okay? You need it, Stiles. And don’t ever come near the Beast again.”

“I’ll make sure that he won’t,” Malia said. “Stiles, you don’t need to call your dad, I’ll take you home, I already texted to him about this earlier today. He’s at the sheriff’s station, he asked me to make sure you’re tied to your bed.”

“You guys are conspiring against me,” Stiles said, but he laughed happily, glad to get out. Actually, if you don’t mind, take me to Scott’s. I need to talk to him and see how he’s doing. And I can rest there too, if that’s okay with you, Melissa?”

The nurse smiled and hugged Stiles. “Don’t get hurt again, okay? I don’t want to see you like this ever again. You scared the hell out of us.”

“I won’t do this again,” Stiles said. “Thanks, Melissa.”

The nurse removed Stiles’ IV and wires connecting him to the machines and left the room.

“I suppose you won’t get out of here so I can get dressed?” Stiles asked, gazing at Malia and Braeden, who both glared at him at the same time. “Okay, I’ll use that tiny little bathroom then.”

Braeden actually smiled when Stiles retreated and left the girls alone. It took the teenager quite some effort to get dressed without hurting, but he managed to do so and actually felt quite a lot better as he left the bathroom, having freshened up a bit and released from the IV and wires.

“Thank you for looking out for me,” Stiles said, facing them both.

Braeden smiled again, before picking up her leather jacket. “You’re welcome.”

Malia grabbed Stiles’ arm as the three of them walked out of hospital corridors together. Malia and Braeden protected their friend from either side, cautiously moving through the hallway towards the elevator, as if they were expecting someone to attack at any time.

Outside on the parking lot, Braeden kept one hand on her gun while gazing around. She sighed in relief when they reached the car and got Stiles to sit on the back seat, behind darkened windows. She then urged Malia to sit down next to him, so she would covered by dark glass too. Braeden wouldn’t say it out loud, but she sensed the presence of the Desert Wolf nearby.

In silence, the three of them drove to Scott’s house, while Stiles texted his best friend to let him know they were on their way. When he didn’t immediately get a reply back, he became concerned, without realizing that Scott, Liam and Kira were in trouble right before he sent his text message. The realization something went terribly wrong came as they entered Scott’s house to find Kira pretty upset.

After giving Stiles a hug, Kira bit her lip. “Scott’s been hurt.”

“What? How?”

“We were going through the tunnels and the Dread Doctors showed up out of the blue,” she explained. “Scott and Liam got a pretty bad beating by them, they never stood a chance to fight them. We seemed frozen somehow, paralyzed and completely out of it. It was pretty bad, especially after Scott was still recovering from the last encounter with the Beast.”

“How bad?” Stiles asked troubled

“His face, his back, his arms got hurt, but he just needs some rest,” Kira sighed. “Liam’s fine, he’s asleep in the spare bedroom. Scott took most of the blows to protect him.”

“And Mason?” Malia asked.

“No sign yet,” Kira sighed.

“Where is he?” Stiles asked urgently, following Kira upstairs as he forgot everything else.

In the bedroom, the Kitsune found Scott pacing, unable to lie down on the bed, even though he was hurting. She immediately took charge, moved her arm behind his back and pushed him gently back down, listening to his agitated voice. Stiles heard it all from outside of the room, right before walking in.

“We need to find him,” Scott kept on repeating agitated and upset.

“I know, and we will,” Kira soothed him, “but now you need to sleep, Scott. You’re in no shape to go out there again like this.”

“Stiles, where is he?” Scott asked. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” Kira began. “He’s –“

“- Right here.”

Kira turned, just as Stiles hurried into the room. Immediately Scott relaxed, realizing at least his best friend was okay. Stiles moved to the bed and hugged Scott gently.

“I’m okay,” he said. “Now get some sleep, we’ll talk in the morning. We’ll find him, okay?”

Scott sighed and allowed himself to relax. Before the door even closed, the hurt werewolf fell asleep. Kira smiled as Stiles left, knowing she’d stay with her boyfriend until he fell into the deepest of sleeps.

Outside the room, Stiles turned around to find Braeden and Malia look at him cautiously, warning and concern in their eyes. He knew he was finally going to find out why they’ve been so overprotective. It’s time to tell him the truth.

“What?” Stiles asked carefully.

“Remember how my mother is trying to kill me?” Malia asked.

“Yeah?”

“I think she’s trying to kill you too.”

Stiles sighed, knowing that he sensed this all along. Ever since that night on the field, Malia had been acting odd. Now he knows why at least. She brought her mother back to Beacon Hills and now they could all pay the price for it. Somehow, that woman might be even more dangerous than the Beast.

He looked at them both. “I should have a gun.”


	14. Gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very, very much again for all of your lovely comments! I am so happy people enjoy this story and give me feedback.  
> Again, thanks so much!   
> This chapter is focusing on friendship and emotional hurt. Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 14: Gun**

 

Stiles hears snorts in the background as he tries to catch the gun Braeden throws in his direction, knowing all too well he won’t be able to grab it, as he’s quite clumsy at times. Well, a lot of times, maybe, one of the reasons why his dad never allows him anywhere near his private gun collection.

When the weapon drops to the ground, he hears an amused sigh and turns around to find his dad standing behind him, rolling his eyes, as if expecting this. Melissa is standing right behind him, still in her hospital outfit, a tired gaze betraying how weary she is. But she too smiles, remembering the many times Stiles tripped over his own feet.

“Well, I guess you’ll have to pay for extra shooting classes one day, dad,” Stiles mutters, before picking up the empty weapon and handing it awkwardly back to Braeden, knowing he’ll have to stick to his beloved metal bat. Well, at least he can swing that thing like the best and it smashes in skulls better than any gun can.

“And until that day, you won’t come near a weapon, I swear. Not in my lifetime at least,” Noah Stilinski reacts dryly, before pulling his son in a bear hug. “Good to see you back on your feet, son. Sorry I couldn’t pick you up at the hospital, it was kind of busy with monsters running around and all.”

“That’s okay, dad, Malia and Braeden took care of me,” Stiles reacts with a grin on his face, happy to be out of the hospital. “But I am kind of pissed you never told me about the Desert Wolf’s threat.”

“What are you talking about?” Noah asks surprised, taking his son to the living room, followed by Malia and Braeden whom he throws an angry gaze, realizing now why they were both so insistent on protecting Stiles.

“Remember I told you about that woman?” Stiles begins.

“Yeah, but what she got do with you?” the sheriff asks. “Don’t tell me you’ve hidden things from me again, Stiles.”

His son’s expression tells the sheriff that he did just that. Stiles knew long before anyone else that Malia was challenging her mother, but decided not to tell anyone because of the chimaeras.

A knock on the door interrupts their conversation, before Malia can interrupt them and explain the whole story. Braeden shows Lydia in, who is looking just as tired as the rest. Parrish is with her, cautiously glancing around the room.

“Are you all okay?” the hellhound asks concerned.

“Yeah, are you?” Stilinski reacts. “I haven’t seen you all day, Parrish, not since our little conversation.”

“I know, I had some thinking to do,” the deputy says. “I’m sorry I took off like that, sheriff. Stiles, good to see you back on your feet.”

Stiles nods. He knows about Parrish’ soul searching, as Malia told him about his encounter with his alter Hellhound ego.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back,” Noah smiles, inviting Parrish into the living room, “right on time to have a little chat with my son.”

“Actually, it’s me you have to talk to,” Malia says quietly, sinking down on a chair. “I haven’t told you guys the whole story yet about my mother and it’s time that you learn the truth now about what she did and what I’ve done.”

Melissa puts on the kettle for tea, makes coffee and starts handing out snacks from the fridge while listening in on Malia’s story about the Desert Wolf while Scott and Liam still rest in their rooms. For the first time, the Coyote doesn’t leave out anything, explaining how she was tricked by Theo on multiple occasions and how fanatically she wanted to find the woman who killed her family. After she finishes, Noah frowns and looks at his son.

“You knew about all of this? About what her mother has done to this girl’s family?”

“Yeah, dad, but it wasn’t up to me to tell you,” Stiles says. “Malia asked me to keep it quiet and I respected that promise. Of course I didn’t know that woman showed up at the game. That was new to me too.”

Stiles gently rubs his shoulder as an ache reappears. Malia automatically grabs his hand and starts pulling away the pain, something Stiles hardly even notices as he’s preoccupied with his father and the situation at hand. Lydia does see it and nods gratefully at Malia for protecting the teenager they both care for deeply.

“So, the conclusion is we have a raving madwoman, possibly prowling for my son and her own daughter and an enormous black Beast that moves around in the body of an innocent teenager in Beacon Hills at the same time?” the sheriff remarks, before shrugging. “Well, what else is new around here?”

Melissa snorts at that. “Well, at least our kids are still alive, that’s nothing short of a miracle, right?”

“Funny how that works,” the sheriff reacts, seeing the stunned faces of the teenagers at Melissa’s words.

“Is that how you feel about all of this?” Stiles asks shocked. “That we are lucky to have lived for so long?”

“Well, what do you kids expect?” Stilinski retorts sharply, raising his voice. “We’re happy we have all of you, surprised even at times, that none of you have gotten themselves killed over the past two years or so. Or have you forgotten about Allison and how Argent felt after she was killed? Do you have any idea of the hours that we lie awake at night thinking about your safety? About the dangers you put yourself in?”

Stiles swallows away his sense of guilt as he thinks of Allison. He tries not to think about her, as it stabs him right through the heart when he does.

“Stiles, I’m not aiming this at you,” his father immediately reacts, feeling guilt over what he said as he sees the look in Stiles’ eyes. “Allison was not your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, except for the creature that killed her.”

“But it was, dad,” his son says quietly. “All of this is. We lit the beacon, remember? We drew the supernatural here when we stepped into those ice baths and sacrificed ourselves.”

“Only because you wanted to save us after a crazed Darach tried to kill us,” Melissa reacts, “or have you forgotten about that?”

The nurse looks at Lydia sitting very quietly on the couch next to Stiles, staring at her hands. She shares Stiles’ burden of guilt, just like Scott does. That is something they have to live with for the rest of their lives. Melissa leans forward and squeezes Lydia’s fingers gently.

“And you weren’t exactly aware of what would happen either, were you?” the sheriff adds quietly. “So will you stop feeling guilty over that and just rejoice that you’re all still okay? That is what we do, when we talk about you lot.”

Stiles slowly nods. “Then you also have to know that we won’t stop before we end this, dad. No matter what you do, no matter how many guns you try to keep from my hands, we all have to get out there and find Mason. Nothing will stop us.”

“I know that, son,” the sheriff smiles wearily. “I just wish sometimes it didn’t have to be you.”

“Then who, dad? Those kids at the school who have no clue about what is going on after hours? Who believe they’re in a normal school, where nothing out of the ordinary happens?”

“But why does it have to be you?” Noah asks. “Stiles, your defense is your bat. That’s all. You have no superpowers, no healing abilities, nothing that can make you stronger.”

“I have my friends. They make me strong,” Stiles utters. He gets up and looks at Malia and Lydia. “That is enough for me. Can we go find Mason now, dad?”

 “No,” Noah says, “not in the dark, not when the enemy can see in the dark.”

“It would be pointless,” Lydia says to Stiles, returning to her old self. “Let’s face it, Mason is still out there and as long as he has a sense of what is happening to him, he might be able to fight the Beast inside of him.”

“If it isn’t already too late,” Stiles mutters.

“Getting ourselves killed doesn’t help either, Stiles,” Lydia points out. “Your father is right, we should be happy and also not take any chances. Neither of us can heal and we need Scott and Liam for this, while Malia and Braeden deal with her mother.”

“Lydia’s right,” Noah says, placing a gentle hand on his son’s left shoulder. “We will go out again in the morning, Stiles, but right now you are going to get some rest and you are going to do it right here, in this house. If that woman is after you, you have to stay with people who can protect you.”

“If you would learn me how to shoot properly, I could defend myself,” Stiles mumbles.

“Like I said, son, there will be a time when I’ll pay for shooting lessons, but that is not today,” Noah says firmly. “Not until you get those large hands of yours under control.”

“My large, what?” Stiles stares at his fingers, stretching them out. “I have normal hands, dad.”

“With long, clumsy fingers,” Lydia points out.

“You do tend to drop just about anything, Stiles,” Malia says. “You’re lucky to have friends with supernatural capabilities, just like your dad says. You have no idea how many objects we rescued from your hands before they dropped to the floor.”

“I am not clumsy,” Stiles mutters, tripping over his shoelace as he moves forward. “Well, just a bit maybe.” Everyone snorts at the same time. “Well, at least I’m better than anyone with my baseball bat. Can’t we just go home, dad?”

“That, you are,” Stilinski grins. “I would trust my life in your hands when you can swing that bat. But I have to get back to the precinct and I’d really prefer that you stay here with the rest, so you can guys can protect one another, Stiles.”

“Then where the hell do I sleep? Liam’s in the spare bedroom and Scott is snoring like hell in his own, obviously with Kira by his side. I’m not sharing a bed with Liam, just so you know. And what about Malia, Braeden and Lydia?”

“I’m going home,” Lydia says quickly, glancing around the room. “I’m not the one in danger, remember?”

“I can sleep on the floor,” Braeden offers, “I’m used to it.”

“I don’t mind either,” Malia replies. “In fact, why don’t you take the couch, Stiles? I’ll sleep right in front of you. If that bitch comes in, I’ll grab her before she knows what’s happening to her.”

Stiles smiles, rubbing his painful shoulder instinctively. “Okay then.”

“No, not okay,” Kira interferes, entering the room. “You can share the bed with Scott, Stiles. He’s awake again and asking for you, he’s very agitated. You guys have shared beds before, and I have to get home to see my parents, they’re very worried about all of this. I have to tell them I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” Stiles asks, surprised that Kira would leave Scott now.

“Yeah, I need to talk to my dad about some stuff and Scott is too upset to sleep. I think he needs you,” Kira points out. “He needs you right now and I need my parents.”

Stiles looks at the others and then nods, before hugging his dad briefly and heading upstairs alone, to see his best friend. As soon as he knocks on Scott’s door, he is answered by a frantic, panicking voice. And he knows that Scott is in bad shape.


	15. Bed

Chapter 15: Bed

Stiles finds his best friend in distress as soon as he opens the bedroom door and sees him lying on the bed, blood and all. He hasn’t bothered to wash up, as if to punish himself for not being able to find Mason.  
As soon as Stiles enters the room, he looks up and moves his legs to the side of the bed, sighing in relief at seeing his best friend, but also with a panicking look in his eyes he can’t hide.  
“Scott, lie down,” Stiles gently says, forcing his best friend to calm down. He pushes Scott back down and moves his legs up. “You’re exhausted.”  
“I don’t have time to lie around like this, Stiles,” the Alpha says. “I have to find him and I’m unable to. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but everything I’ve done so far has turned into nothing.”  
“That’s not true and you know it,” Stiles reacts gently. “Come on, Scott, stop beating yourself around the head like this. From what I heard, you were getting really out there to find him, it’s not your fault it’s not that easy.”  
The teenager sinks down next to him and smiles weakly. “I haven’t been of much help lately either, you know?”  
“Because you were – still are – hurt, Stiles. You were at the freaking hospital, because you were trying to fight a thing that is stronger than any of us,” Scott reacts. “How can you say that you weren’t helping? You got all the kids out of school.”  
“And you saved all the teenagers at the library at the risk of your own life,” I remind him. “And trust me, I’m absolutely fine.”  
“No, you’re not,” Scott remarks. “None of us are.”  
Stiles frowns. “Scott, this isn’t like you. You are so down on yourself and I don’t get why.”  
“It’s the Dread Doctors,” Scott says. “I can feel it in my bones, can’t you? Ever since they came to town, things have been so different. They have a negative influence on us all, that’s why Theo was able to come between us in the first place.”  
“Let’s not talk about that,” Stiles says, forcing Scott to slide over. “Theo failed and we’re all alive and fine. And Mason will be found, because you won’t give up. But right now, you need to rest just as much as I do and I won’t allow you to beat yourself up over this when you’re freaking bleeding from twentysomething cuts all over your body.”  
“Twenty-five,” Scott mutters, “not that I’m counting.”  
“Oh god.” Stiles pulls a face. “If you expect me to clean those cuts up, forget it. I still tend to pass out when people get hurt, remember? I suspect you don’t want vomit on them either.”  
“You don’t have to,” Scott says softly, almost smiling. “They’re healing.”  
“Good, now get some rest, Scott, so that you’re going to be okay in the morning,” Stiles demands. “You know you need it and so do I. Now then, how do you want to do this? I’m not going to lie under those sheets with you in the same bed, you know.”  
“Stiles, we’ve seen each other naked a number of times,” Scott reminds him, “it’s not like I don’t know what you’ve got hanging.”  
“I’m not talking about nudity, and by the way, Scott McCall, gross! Do you really think I’d get into bed with you naked? You are my best friend, and that is where our relationship ends, thank you very much. The locker rooms is where I draw the line,” Stiles says.  
“Weren’t you the one talking to Danny about taking your virginity when the Darach was picking out virgins?” Scott smiles, momentarily enjoying the banter and forgetting his issues and stress for a moment.  
“No, I wasn’t. I kind of alluded it, but that wasn’t exactly my plan,” Stiles exclaims mockingly. “Not that I wouldn’t exclude interest in guys, but truth of the matter is that there are no girls in the locker rooms, remember? They have their own. And my virginity was not taken that day.”  
“So, that’s why you shouted loud enough for them to hear that day,” Scott snorts.  
“Yeah, dude. Doh. Again, back to the subject. I don’t want to lie underneath those sheets with you in this bloodied state of yours,” Stiles remarks. “So you choose, bottom of top of the sheets?”  
“Stiles, seriously, you make me have weird sexual visions now,” Scott mutters, his eyes drooping. “Bottom.”  
Stiles snorts, pulling the sheets from underneath Scott, thinking about how pissed off Melissa will be in the morning once she realizes that her son has made all of his sheets dirty with streaks of blood and dirt. But her son will at least wake up feeling much better and more confident again that he can go out there and find Mason.  
Stiles lies down on top of the bed and pulls a blanket over himself, turning to his side while Scott remains on his back. A few minutes later, the teenagers are snoring softly, exhausted as they both are after days of hell. It’s like this that Melissa and Noah Stilinski finds them a couple of hours later. Stiles is hanging partially out of bed, while Scott has turned to his side and thrown his arm over his best friend, as if protecting him even in his sleep.  
Noah gently lifts up his son and places him back where he belongs, pulls the blanket higher over his body and switches off the light while Melissa checks for any signs of fever, sighing in relief when she finds none.  
“We’ve got strong kids, don’t we?” Noah says quietly, shutting the door.  
“We do,” Melissa says, frowning deeply.  
“What is it?”  
“What if one day that isn’t enough anymore?” she asks. “What do we do then?”  
“We hang on, as we always do. And we’re there for them,” Noah says, hugging Melissa tight. “And we survive.”


	16. Pancakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again so very, very much for your comments on this story! Much appreciated !!

**Chapter 16: Pancakes**

 

Stiles wakes up feeling as if he was thrown against a bus. Even though the wounds are starting to heal and the bruises are very slowly fading, the ache in the back of his head and the hurt in his strained shoulders, proves that it wasn’t just a bad dream and they were in this situation for real.

His throat is dry, his entire body aches and he feels cold, having slept underneath a thin blanket all night. And worse than that, Scott’s stale breath keeps on hissing against him. When Stiles opens his eyes, he finds his best friend asleep partially over and against him, trapping him in his sleep.

Stiles mutters under his breath and slides gently away from Scott’s grip, making sure he doesn’t wake the werewolf up, who desperately needs to sleep before tackling the Beast. Tiptoeing, he makes his way out of the room, only to find Kira, Malia and Lydia downstairs, preparing breakfast and making coffee. Braeden is on the phone in the other room, Melissa and his dad are nowhere to be seen.

“You guys are here early,” Stiles mutters, straightening his clothes and hair with a couple of hauls from his hands.

“Early?” Lydia raises an eyebrow. “It’s after noon, Stiles.”

“It is?” He glances at the kitchen clock, surprised that he slept for more than twelve hours. No wonder his back feels like it’s killing him. “So that’s not breakfast, but lunch?”

“Yep,” Kira says, showing a plate of pancakes in triumph that look like they’ve been burned to a crisp, not once but four times. “What do you think?”

“Uh –“ Stiles grimaces and grunts. “No eggs left?”

“Nope, mice couldn’t eat in this house,” Malia says. “Hey, eat up, Stiles, they’re pretty good.”

“They’re burned.”

“So?” The Coyote picks one from the pile and devours it in one. “I like the crispy flavour.”

“You have no taste at all,” Stiles laughs.

“What do you expect after eating raw rabbits for most of my life?” Malia comments, turning around when Braeden walks in holding her phone.

“That was Derek,” she says to Malia. “According the latest rumours, your mother needs to take your powers either on the last night before the full moon, or on that night itself. The more she closes onto midnight, the better the results will be.”

“Great. So that means tonight or tomorrow night it will be over,” Malia reacts happily. “Perfect. Then Scott can go out and kill the Beast, while we take out my mom. That’s two in a row.”

“Wait a minute, Malia,” Stiles comments. “Are you seriously going to take on your mother like that?”

“Of course, what did you expect?” the coyote reacts. “Stiles, I won’t let you out of sight as long as she’s out there, threatening to kill you. If we miss our opportunity now, she’ll be back. She might actually kidnap you whenever she feels like it and do with you whatever she wants. Do you really want to take that chance?”

“I’m more worried about your state of mind, Malia,” Stiles reacts quietly. “I don’t want you to kill her.”

“Then do I just sit around and wait until she does that to me? Or to you?” Malia says sharply. “Stiles, this is not just an ordinary woman, you know. She has strength, she’s a murderer, she already took Deaton and she’s going to do much worse to you. She has no regards to me, so why should I have that to her?”

“You’re different than her,” Stiles points out gently, walking over to Malia so she faces him. “Malia, you are human, more than you are Coyote. You deserve better than this.”

“I’ll get that when she’s gone.”

“And then what? You’ll have to live with the fact that you killed your own mother. You have to deal with the results of your actions. You’ll have to face the facts one day, without running away from them,” Stiles says gently. “Believe me, it’ll come back to haunt you forever. You will not the be same person again.”

Malia hesitates a moment, staring into Stiles’ eyes. “I know,” she says quietly.

“Then don’t kill her.” Stiles reacts quietly, holding Malia tight. “Please, don’t do this.”

He feels Malia sag against him, loosening some of her stress as she flexes her shoulders. Then she nods, which is enough for him.

“I can’t make any promises, Stiles.”

“I know.”

“But I’ll try not to kill her.”

“Thank you.”

Malia’s eyes fill with tears as she pulls away from Stiles and leaves the room, followed by Braeden. Stiles rubs tiredly past his eyes, before turning to Kira and Lydia, who gently look at him as he flexes his painful shoulder.

“That was amazing,” Lydia says. “You did it.”

“Did I? I’m not so sure,” Stiles reacts, “but at least I got through to her a bit. And there’s a back-up plan.”

“There is?” Kira looks up. “What do you mean?”

Before Stiles can react, he sags through his legs, feeling the exhaustion of the past days coming back to haunt him. Gripping the table, he groans as the pain shoots through his shoulder.

“Come here,” Lydia says, gently holding Stiles tight. “You’ve overdone yourself.”

“I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not, Stiles, and don’t think for a moment that you’ll be heading out there to help Scott and Liam. Liam is with your dad right now, discussing the best way forward. As soon as Scott wakes up, they’ll go out and find Mason. But you are not going with them.”

“I’m fine, Lydia. Seriously, do you expect me to stay here as if nothing’s going on?”

“We already talked about that,” Malia says, returning to the kitchen with Braeden. “You are going to the sheriff’s station to help out your dad from there. You’ll be safe from my mother there too. If she attempts to get to you, she’ll have to go past a lot of deputies.”

Stiles opens and closes his mouth, seeing the serious faces of the women before him.

“Oh god,” he mutters, “I’m overruled by teenage girls.”

Lydia smiles broadly. “Yes you are. Now, come with me. Melissa went to the hospital but left instructions on how I should treat your wound. You are running a slight fever again, it shows in your eyes. Remove your T-shirt.”

“Oh my, Mrs. Martin,” Stiles quips. “I love your dirty talk.”

She sticks out her tongue, laughing when they walk to the living room, where Stiles does as she asks and lies on his side, so she can treat the wound. When removing the bandage on his shoulder, she is relieved to see that it hasn’t gotten worse, but it hasn’t really improved either. Gently she uses what Melissa has given her to take care of the wound, bandaging it again while Stiles lies down with closed eyes, sinking away into himself during the roughest moments.

“You doing okay?” Lydia asks, as she tapes the bandages in place.

“Yeah,” he mutters.

Lydia gives him back his T-shirt, helps him to sit up and watches how he pulls it over his head, seeing the pale skin and flustered cheeks. Then he swallows two Tylenol, gulps down some water and relaxes.

“You’ll be fine,” Lydia says. “We all will be.”

“I hope so,” Stiles says. “I’m worried about Malia though.”

“We all are, but she needs to go through this, you know that.”

“It doesn’t make it easier though.”

“Come on.” Lydia helps her friend up and escorts him back to the kitchen, where Liam as arrived. As they gather around, Scott enters the room, wide-eyed and very much awake, rested and fully healed. Stiles envies him for one moment for his ability to heal so quickly.

“Ready to find Mason?” he asks.

“Oh yeah,” Scott says.

When a second later, he pulls Corey out of his invisible state, Stiles can only smile and realize that his friend is back to his old, feisty self. It’s time to find Mason and put an end to this.


	17. The trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truly sorry about the wait! Real life caught up for a while.  
> Here we go again ;)  
> thanks so much for commenting and following this story!

**Chapter 17: The trap**

 

Oh yeah, Scott is back to his old self, he’s going out there to find Mason and this time, they all know he will succeeds. He’s revigorated, knows what he’s doing and he doesn’t hesitate this time to follow Stiles’ suggestion to track down Theo and collaborate.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, Scott, but last time we wouldn’t have found Lydia the second time around without his help. He brought me to her and I got her out,” Stiles comments. “You know I’m right. I’m not a fan of Theo, not by far, but he’s definitely helped us before, even if it was for his own good.”

“He’ll backstab us again.”

“Not if you get to him first and stop the backstabbing,” Liam says, supporting Stiles. “You know what he’s like this time around and you can deal with it.”

Scott smiles, looking at his young beta. “You are right, and so is Stiles. It’s time to put an end to this and find Mason. But where do we find Theo?”

“Where he wants you to find him,” Stiles says with a smile. “It’s Wednesday, it’s a school day. I’ll bet you ten bucks he’s out there pretending nothing ever happened.”

“But why at the school?” Liam asks surprised.

“Because that’s where the buzz takes place. If something’s going in Beacon Hills, the students are the first ones to know,” Stiles grins. “How do you think I always knew?”

“By using your dad’s radio,” Scott points.

“Well yeah, that too, but most of all because nobody ever seems to figure out that all the walls are paper thin and pretty easy to listen through,” Stiles snorts. “Which still makes me curious about the girl’s locker room. I can tell you there’s some pretty spicy stuff going on in there. There was this one time that –“

“Enough details, Stiles,” Lydia stops him quickly. “Now then, can we focus again on the things at hand?”

“Yep,” Stiles says, grabbing his jacket, let’s go.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Scott says, looking at his friend confused.

“With you, of course. Somebody needs to call out Theo’s lies and punch him in the face when he crosses a line. Who else?”

“Liam will do the punching and I will call out the lie,” Scott says. “You are not going anywhere, except for the police station.”

“And why would I do that?” Stiles retorts surprised. “You don’t think I’ll let you go out there by yourself, do you?”

“Yes, you are,” Malia interrupts. “You have to stay where you’re safe, and Braeden and I will put an end to this thing with my mother in meantime. That was always the plan, what you’ve agreed upon.”

“WE are going to end this, I am not going to stay here and do nothing.”

“You’re not,” Lydia points out, “you’re coming with me. And you’ll have to listen to us, Stiles, no matter what. And by the way, you can protect me, I’m your damsel in distress for once.” With that, she grinned at the others, something Stiles didn’t miss out on. He knew they were joking about, but the underlying reason was quite obvious. The Desert Wolf was out there and they knew she was still after him.

Stiles threw down his jacket and gazed around the room, not missing the sudden quiet when they realized they had gone too far in their jokes. He knew something was up, he didn’t need werewolf senses for that.

“What are you hiding – again?” he asked sharply. “And don’t fool me. I don’t need werewolf senses not to notice you are lying.”

Scott scraped his throat, not glancing at his best friend.

“Scott, come on, you’ve always had my back, not tell me the truth. Am I to fear for my life? Is that it? What is going on?”

“She’s very close,” Braeden says, breaking the silence. Immediately Stiles knows she’s telling the truth. “Very close. She’s watching us and we know she’s after you first, because it will hurt Malia more when you are dead. I’m pretty sure her plan is to kill you, then Malia and make her suffer before she dies.”

“Oh.” Stiles stared at the bounty hunter. “Is that all?”

“This is not funny, Stiles,” Malia says angrily. “This is my fault and I can’t get to her if I have to spend my time defending you. Back at the hospital it was different, we were in a closed environment there and I knew she wouldn’t get into the room alive. You were safe there, protected. But out here, in the world, she’ll just keep on going until she has you. She might even vanish for a month or so and come back by the next full moon, because that’s what she does. She’s a shadow, she lurks, she waits. She’s a predator. I need to get rid of her now, before she takes off and we’ll never see her again.”

“Why now?” Stiles asks. “Why can’t you just let her go and hope she’ll never come back? She might even give up, Malia. Nobody is that persistent. We have too many other things on our plate right now. Mason’s out there, the Beast needs to go and we can’t focus on all at the same time.”

“That’s the problem,” Lydia points out quietly. “She’s counting on us dividing our strengths. The Beast being here is the best thing that could happen to her right now, because it’ll mean that we don’t have enough time and resources to focus on her.”

“Okay, then I’m staying with Malia in this house,” Stiles says stubbornly. “I have my bat and we’re smart, we can beat her with that. But don’t think I’ll let Malia and Braeden do this alone. Besides, how are you going to lure her here when I’m not in the area?”

“She’ll come to us because she’ll believe you are still here,” Malia explains. “All of you are leaving the house, without the three of us. Stiles, you’ll be in the back of Lydia’s car, hidden from view. She’ll assume you’re here and she’ll try to kill us both at the same time.”

“I don’t want this,” Stiles says. “Scott, I know you have to get to Mason, but I don’t like this plan. Malia will be vulnerable.”

“No, she won’t be,” Scott says. “I have a plan, but I need more time.”

Stiles smiles. “What are you up to?”

Scott grins. “Well, let’s just say that not everyone is playing the role he’s supposed to and that is something Theo’s about to find out.”

Stiles looks up surprised. “You have Deucalion on your side, don’t you?”

“Oh yeah.

“I like it.” The teenager stretches his shoulders and ignores the throbbing pain. He’s feeling much better and feistier than ever, ready to finish this all. “Let’s do it then.”

A few minutes later, the gang splits up. Scott and Liam take off to find Theo, who will find Mason for them. Lydia takes Stiles in the back of her car, hiding him from plain sight. Braeden and Malia stay behind.

As soon as the car is out of sight, Lydia nods and allows Stiles to move up, knowing nobody can see them.

“Did it work, you think?” Stiles asks.

“I hope so.”

“I worry about Malia.”

“I know, but she can manage herself. And she needs to do this, Stiles, you know that. She needs to finish what she started.”

“That is exactly what I’m worried about,” Stiles grunts, leaning back. In fact, worrying is almost anything he does these days, or so it seems.


End file.
